you can die-
it's your choice.
death does not call for you, he does not
desire to take you in his merciless claws,
and yet, he lingers at the back of my mind.
an option- a testament to
free will-
he stands in the closet of my room and
sometimes, i'll hear him complain,
and i'll listen to his grumbles
like music from the gods,
he'll tell me
it's far past my time,
the universe does not like the victims that
get away, she tortures
them, because he says that he
is not the worst fate,
often, the universe deems him too kind.
he is shunned for being too kind.
and so he hides in my room, away from
angels, and gods, and the universe herself,
and so he remains an option, a constant
whisper in my ear.
i can die, if i'd like.
YOU ARE READING
an idiots guide to life; how to survive the badlands of wyoming
Poetrythe slightly deranged ramblings of a teenage trans guy living in wyoming there's no overarching theme but there sure is a lot of dogs, horses, and god(s) . i do not know what i am talking about 97% of the time mostly posted chronologically in order...
