With every breath, I quiver and shake,
Lasting shivers of hate--and questions that thrust
Gnarled hands into my conscience
and into my decaying mind.
Knowing my last breath could be cursed,
Or worse--
Unaccounted for.
But am I sane?
Is every breath I breathe
just a step closer to death?
or life?
or nothing?
There's a possibility it is just empty space--
Hanging,
Suspended in air--
waiting for Time to erase every last shred of its existence
and to abolish memories we thought were permanent
and love we thought was unconditional--
so that our last breaths are unaccounted for.
