there’s a moment
that waits for me
each and every day
at the corner of anxiety
and fears i’ll never display
it holds a bouquet
of dead crippled flowers
in hopes that i would possibly stay
to pull
and latch
plunge and scratch
itself deep
into my veins
to take everything i love
and collapse me
so that when i’d wake
i would shed my hope
and wish to fall
away to a world
where i’d finally be gone