Untitled #307
as I lay here dying
I am reminded that I am already dead.
reminded that duty calls through
like some strange and red winged
mocking bird
as I lay here broken
wishing the noose was undone.
I am reminded that in the end,
the wounded, seemingly healed scabs
are just sores waiting for crows
to pick clean
reopen
devour
devour like desperation
as I lay here wanting
more and less
like chewing barbwire.
I am reminded that there is no yesterday,
only the salty tang of words and tears.
those better left unsaid
and those that wished they were heard
as I lay here in songs of silence
that echo like twin dreams.
I am reminded that the truths revealed,
are sometimes better left as lies
as I lay here
already dead.