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Nov 2020
Eternal nothing would be a gift
Sweeter than death
Why do I spend this time fearing it,
My futile, foolish being.
It could be a welcomed feeling
Iā€™d let it in
With its empty repose
And hollow bones,
And brush its cheek
tenderly
Let it enter me--
Bear it.

The river I ride will guide me down
To the hell
Where my heart owns real estate
Stakes in the barren ground
And I will be accompanied by
My great companion
The messenger and deliverer
The cog in the great machine
Of free will

The one that continually leads me to destruction
Who spreads all the lies and the half-truths
Who withholds no honesty in his brutal judgments
And provides no delusions when his subjects face harshness
Who has no face but sports his tricky mirror with

Its effacement
The dead stars reflect
The river
Sticks
catch on my hospital gown
As I climb out
To inspect
My new neighbors who live in it
They are sorry for a lot of things too.
They bear the truth:

Nothingness would be easier
Than knowing what hate can do.
Grace McDonough
Written by
Grace McDonough  20/F/Kansas
(20/F/Kansas)   
188
 
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