Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Final Moments

It was the day after the dazed daydream before,
and I had dreamed of a hurried escape from certain death,
clasped in the grasp of my own lapsed judgement,
I had been in all kinds of trouble, as usual.
Up to my knees in never ending nonsense,
wading through water that was born of my own eyes,
a ship that went down with empty, echoing lifeboats,
and a man of purity who prayed over my body, before she was even gone.
It was over in an instant,
no more death,
neither was there sorrow or crying,
no more pain,
for the former world had passed away the second I opened my eyes and returned to your reality.

I choke on open air because it is so full of obligation and expectation,
and I can’t feel my body if I think about it all too much.
Won’t you do me this honour and let me feel a little freedom?
Let my breathing be a slow, sensual rhythm,
and my eyes closed and uncorrupted.
Let me live uninterrupted,
distorted voices in the distance,
but never close enough to touch me.

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