A Suicide

A sleep

Small,

But a death,

Though wake up

Not in the heavens

Small

But Beautiful.

So,

Let's not

Wake up honey,

The winter is here.

Beneath,

The heats of

This blanket,

Let's close our eyes

Tightly,

Not to wake up

A sleep

But

A Death.

A Tremor

A tremor
Beneath the core
Of my heart
Rushes.

Dragging every spot
Of blood,
To an undefined heap of
Ash and dust.

“Scripture closes:
Ash to ash
Dust to dust”

Scattered, a heat beat
A breathe
A choke, finally
A hushed walk on
No existence;

I have but, a
Fetching hand
Unto the creator
Imploring
A sky to
Escape

When the hope is over
A smile exists,
Ahead of a
A hidden pain