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Death is a blessing

2021-03-12 - 3:03 a.m.

And in it creeps. Like a ghostshell night moon,
Alone and stripped, gauzy, a thin
veil into the night terror.

The pause button is fucked. It's jammed.
It screams at me in punctilious,
Clear,
And present,
Driving home the knowledge,
The godforsaken certainty,
That all the things once feared in the dark are,
Gone.
That death is not the horror to gain.
But that life is the wound to cauterize,
And to wish,
To hope where no hope exists,
That some Thing possesses mercy.

I'm old, an aging alcoholic,
Skin, crumbs on the grain,
Shadows on a lampshade.

Make it stop.
Please fucking kill me and make it stop.

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