on the day that i died
i woke up invisible
spread my bed and fluffed the pillow
where i lay my head
and my dreams and hopes and fears
all these past years

i sat on the ledge
and looked out over the sleeping city
and there was nary a star in the sky
the moon was in hiding
the air had the taste of bitterness;
of regret and fear and defeat
of “what the hell am i doing here?”
feeling like the final grain of sand
passing through the neck
of an hourglass;
like the last breath of wind
rustling the leaves
before stillness takes over
there were no thoughts
“this can’t be it, can it?”

twilight approaches.
one foot in the air as i stood
i wanted to fly
like Icarus
like the birds
singing their solemn songs
as they woke.
the sky turned maroon
like the blood that would be on my clothes
when all of this was over.
the sky cried
and broke into thunder and lightning
i wanted to fly
like Icarus
so i did
but i also fell
like Icarus
i felt a single tear from my eye
as it fell
i felt the tear dry
as i fell

“i tried to be good
i tried to be good
was i not good?”

and this was the refrain
that danced around, pranced around,
shouted around, cried around
in my head
flying through the freefall

then i landed in hell
but it wasn’t the fiery furnace abyss
that everyone talked about
instead
it was a museum of things i wanted to forget
all the words
that once carved me hollow
started to get etched
painfully on my skin yet again
time seemed to be rewound
and all the missteps and mistakes
that struck me like poisoned arrows
there were shards of broken glass and dreams
that pierced straight through the heart
they reflected what i would’ve been
could’ve been
should’ve been
and every part of me abandoned
like an old lighthouse
i tried to reach out to them
and an earthquake happened
that swallowed me whole
and the weight of despair crushed me.