Ceremonious burning

~By Stephen Blackwood 

Something’s bothering me inside. 

But I don’t know what exactly it is. 

All I know is that,

It hurts like hell. 

A suffocating coil of snake,

wound tightly around my neck. 

As it tightens its hold,

I slip a little bit more. 

And now I’m almost there;

There in middle of nowhere. 

Trapped between life & death 

And now life seems more deadly than death. 

Cause who knows what life will bring?

Another trap or another broken heart,

New ways to disappoint my loved ones,

And new chapters to regret?

But, I want it no more. 

For I’m irreparably broken,

I’m million little pieces. 

I’m million twinkling shards. 

Destined to be scattered. 

Destined to be lost. 

And life’s already beating me down to dust.

And I can’t pick myself up.

I cut those who try to;

And then blame it on the edges. 

My razor sharp edges. 

Edges which everybody so soulfully hate. 

But at least they’re honest. 

Honest about who they are. 

Cause the chamfered, blunt ones,

Those disguised smooth things,

They cut you unawares. 

And those are the cuts that’ll sting you most. 

Now, I’m fine powder dust. 

With no edges left. 

And life’s trying to shrink me down further still. 

I’ve had enough. 

Cause I can’t keep on anymore.

Or maybe I can.  

But I don’t want to. 

For I’m irrecoverably exhausted. 

But don’t mistake this as my end. 

Cause I’ve always been a walking dead. 

Just waiting for my ceremonious burning. 

And I get it now;

It was never a matter of if,

But a matter of when. 

Only if I had known it then. 

Only if I had known it then. 

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