It’s 2:24 and it’s raining sand to clog up eyes and put this house to sleep.
The wind rocks the foundation as the windows crack and yawn.
My spine feels the shudder as the walls give in and surrender to the night.
It’s 2:27 and I’m awake in the bare skeleton, left alone to converse
with the breath of a ghost that once held hopes of a happy home.
Oh, if I could get outside these walls.
Yank me from my human state.
Let the night turn me into dust so that I may ride the winds of change,
because even false hope is better than none.
Let birds build nests from my ribs, let rabbits gnaw on my arms.
Send my heart out to the ocean
(oh, to be an ocean)
Let the fish thrive in my hair.
But do leave my spine to congeal into this skeleton wall,
so part of me may remain to comfort those I leave behind.
It’s 2:43 and I’m giving myself over to encompassing black.
So long, dearie.