As death became reality
He attempted to convince himself
That if he hit delete enough
Enough people would pay attention
That his flair of calm temperament
Was a siren of helicopters
Berating sleeping neighbors
Wanting everything to be worth more than he believed

Poetey became a suicide note
Causing him to stop writing
With the fear of his words becoming eulogy
Bleeding paper with cut nerve endings
Fist indented desk topping
Proving a impending bad written letter
To people that may never read


Historians have probable cause
To explain what went wrong here
Until then
This man sits in glass bottles and retained thoughts
Smiling broken happiness
Through exhausted muscles
Knowing today won't be enough