Tired
I place the noose around my neck
Asking myself is this really it
what will I miss
who will miss me
As I tighten the rope
I can feel it beginning to choke me
It hurts my thorax
I'm afraid
I'm happy
The note I left behind
explains everything
No one is deserving
not even an inkling
of my collections
The makeshift of the chair beneath my feet
The unsteady shift of my weight
it's more painful than I thought
dangling in the air
waiting for my last breath
chocking
soon the pain will be gone
Copyright © George Maris | Year Posted 2019
|