Another full circle

At the end of this year
I will be dead
I promised that
to myself.
When the clock turned
another full circle
on the First of January.
You just listen for your owns sake.
nobody near
no proximity
no star I am orbiting
grabbing me
no sun in my life
I am glad
nothing is casting a shadow on me
can’t read off the time
just mundane dread
of what should matter
I hold dear
my heart sold
in parts
my spirit shrunken mad
bold against the cold
What was excitement again?
Same shit
different faces.
Same signals racing
same hormones released
sure I could manipulate this.
Ever seen a ballet?
I haven’t
I am not planning to
just tipping toes
which pays
tips for dancers
at least they feel not empty
on a daily basis
but I wouldn’t pay for that
to see passion.
for an eternity.
can you succeed
selling this story to me?
When my friends
wished for a happy new year
I knew
how this story was meant to end.
Not in a happy way
but it’s on you
who are left behind
to not make it a tragedy
I wouldn’t care
either
burn, bury, salvage,
desecrate me,
disrespect
what I was supposed to be,
and particularly
what I turned into
or throw the corpse to the rats
on the streets
and forget about it.
It doesn’t matter to me.
I will be dead.
31st December.
23rd hour
one minute
until they turn the year
put up new calendar paper,
the black mirrors
vibrates for a while
best wishes.

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