A part of me is dying,
unless I do a thing or two
It stares at me with a hope
still there’s nothing that I could do
It dreams of an open sky,
full of birds reds and whites
It dreams of ins and outs
of the world full of colored lights
But its dying is what it believes
it speaks to me with a hope for help
weeps softy in a trembling voice
and opens up with a cry for self
death is closer, it speaks again
death is nearer, it shovels its pain
I hold it by my hands,
and I map those little curves
rather wrinkles on a soft skin,
revealing those fettle nerves
death is closer, it speaks again
death is nearer, it shovels its pain
More than a year now,
it has barely had any sight
A tight hug was the closest
while resting those inner fights
death is closer, it spoke again
death is nearer, it shoveled its pain
Now, I hide it in my secret closet
The thing that I’ve always done
I ask it to have some patience
as inside my heart I’d feel that burn
death is closer, I thought again
death is nearer, I shovel my pain
-J, 1/2/2018
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