To this end

by You Have My Word


This deep breath, this gasp
this drawing in.
This sin, this giving in
this transgressing.
This rage, this page
this release, this peace
almost. This wreck,
this sinking, this drinking
drowning sorrows till sleep.
This weeping child,
this hard heart, these eyes
these tears, these years
lost in fears like running wild
through forest. These trees,
these branches, this breaking.
This infallible ache, this waking
to check for monsters under the bed.
This dread, this darkness,
this death. This deep breath,
this exhale, this end.


This is the 11th poem in a series of 30. Read the others:

Day 1: Tighter than fear

Day 2: Do not wish me to be true

Day 3: Listen

Day 4: What to ask after the wreckage

Day 5: Even though they die

Day 6: Where will you go when the rain comes?

Day 7: You cannot do much for the dead

Day 8: Keep it together

Day 9: Wrecking the very gods we built | On statues and stories

Day 10: Become giants from the ground