the air's pressing down on me,
but
I breathe shallow and my heart beats slowly
my shadow though has given up on following me,
I shout
a
farewell to my fairweather friend.

I think that I'm tired
and then I think,
not too tired to think
that seems to tire me more
every time that I think about it,

but isn't honesty
the best death policy
with no penalty
if you default?

and now I know that I'm tired.