A Head in Fading
our methods differ
one may cry
as another gets high
but either way
we die
a little each time
our light grows dim
as hearts begin
to harden and chill
becoming heavy inside us
this came from me
but it isn’t mine
I birthed it
but did not grow it
it resided in me
while I became
conscious enough to see
it waiting patiently
to devour me
it’s not that I
gave in willfully
I did what I thought
was expected of me
but as it ate
from within
I dared to dream
grandiose and often
of something other
and this is where
my problems began