This is not the first time
but it always feels as such,
always feels like the worst it could ever be.

It’s been so consistent lately
that I go to bed with the light on
just so I can see Death coming.
I stay up expectant of his arrival
like a child waiting for Santa
except I didn’t bake cookies.

It’s not that sort of visit.
But he’s not really coming, is he?
I’m not really dying am I?

I just don’t know anymore.
Logic has taken a vacation,
my heart has been left to the helm.
But he’s so preoccupied
banging furiously on the walls of his enclosure.
This ship is behaving erratically.

And then the alarm,
that **** infernal alarm.
A new days begins
when the previous never ended,
they just overlap, blur together
and I don’t know what’s really going on
or if I can continue living like this.

Don’t interpret that to mean I want to die.
But isn’t that what’s so awful about this?
You are just ripped from nothingness,
birthed into creation, never
allowed to make the choice to exist
but on days like this
you have to.