The last day will be the end
of the month, on that midnight.
My bandages still have blood
on them, but don’t you worry, I will
be out of your way shortly.
And, actually, there is a lot of
pain to avoid if I don’t remain here
in your room, at all.
This could be the worst news
to deliver, but I have to face the
idea that discomfort can mean growth; the
trees will cover my escape from this
maze of indiscreet personal motivations. you
could flee with me, but it will drag you
back in if you let it. like tentacles of
less friendly aura that squid you into the
vortex, these places you have visited
are already tainted; yet the walls of red
and grey were already that color when we
got there long ago.
both of your eyes will close
when you are done fighting for how worn
out you were and no matter what
happens, I know you will not
be alone…