the sun rose at 5 in the morning that day.
i was sitting on my roof watching the world slowly, burn.
it takes a lot of time for something so alive and full of life to die.
i've watched it many times.

take a deep breath and stretch before the stretcher leaves the house.

i have nightmares of this alternate reality,
in which i lost my mother to herself and my father to alcohol-

i am haunted, i am tired.
i want to expire but somehow, insomnia must have a coke problem.

so i walk for hours discussing side effects and
who will be to blame for the arson of the universe,
for it is a question of morals, if the dead can be convicted.
and we talk for hours about the husband who lost his wife during stalin's reign,
her daughter telling friends her mom went away...

i would like to follow the trail of consciousness into the abyss,
i would like to fall asleep with a plastic bag around my throat.
no more disappointment over electric stoves.

i would take my grandfather's bayonet and sign my name, my brain, on the wall.
i've felt enough guilt for the unsympathetic. a mother gives everything for her young.
i've wandered around the minds of paraphiliacs. a mother's needs & a cold sweat on my tongue.
i will drink the sleeping pills in my vodka and let the tide be my blanket.
leave the needle in my arm.
throw my body in the yard.
that's all i ask.
- signed