Whether You Want To

May 21 2017

The sun stays up late,
listening to the birds’ songs,
like a teen dressed black.

Isn’t it past your bedtime?
How old do I have to be?

Even the robins
chide the “old boy” to grow up.
Master your tongue, first.

I am unsure, like wading
headfirst in the Lethe’s head.

I have two tokens.
I don’t know if I earned them;
Charon doesn’t care.

Where is the ferry destined?
Can a friend take my silver?

Two cents for your eyes
are your first, most basic right,
but keep them open!

One cannot choose their own birth,
nor ask the unborn, “To be?”

The father of life
leaves us without light or heat.
Mother, where are you?

I do not hear your children,
just their toys speeding away.

too fast down a slow, dark road,
we’re easy to miss.

It’s true: the greater our speed,
the less our perfect clocks tick.

A young, naive heart
sees one too many sunsets
and ceases beating.

This is not how it all ends,
a false light in the tunnel.

The morning after,
you might rise, with wounds stitched shut,
whether you want to.

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