Look, I know
I should just go to sleep
Same as I know I'd get more done if I stopped writing poems
But if I go to sleep now
I'll dream of Death
About how close I can get before our fingers twine and
I can't get them undone
And I wonder if those who choose him regret it
Because it doesn't seem like there's much to regret right now

So I'll write instead of sleep
In hopes that I'll stumble upon some words of my own
That convince me I made the right choice
When I chose    
to stay