She is no oxygen thief.
She isn’t stealing something
that doesn’t belong to her,
she is being force-fed it,
being gifted the same terrible present every birthday,
being given something that she doesn’t want
in relentless abundance.
She has had the same headache
for a decade, and can’t remember
life without it.
She doesn’t know the definition of ‘well.’
She looks forward to blinking
for the last time,
to closing her eyes
and never opening them again.
It’s exciting not knowing
exactly when this will happen –
aren’t you excited? You should be.
It’s a once in a lifetime thing.
She doesn’t want to breathe
but it keeps on happening.
The copper said, “No sudden moves!”
as he tried to decide whether to
get her off the edge of the roof
or get the carving knife out of her hand first,
thinking of the paperwork he’ll have to fill out later.
She said, “But all I have are sudden moves.
Isn’t my heartbeat just a series of sudden moves?
Isn’t yours?”
Her words got caught in the wind.
She balances on the edge
thinking about how we see the world,
and then we don’t –
or perhaps we do
but from another angle
in another realm.
She doesn’t like the view from here,
buried above ground,
and hopes that the world will look prettier
once she’s buried in it.
Unblinking, unbeating, unbreathing,
unfeeling, undisturbed,
underground.
No way do I press the ‘like’ button on this.
LikeLike
Well thanks for reading anyway 🙂 sorry you didn’t like it!
LikeLike
I meant it as support to the subject matter. The style of writing was very good.
LikeLike
love the first line!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks babes! 🙂
LikeLike
I am catching up on what I missed when I was sick. DAMN FUCK HELL WOWZER to this one. I love the raw honesty you and only you seem to be possessed with, the idea of almost wishing for the excitement of death when you are ill, yeah I totally hear you. This is kinda totally incredible
LikeLiked by 1 person