Lunch Poem

does my soul still stretch for the past
stuck in a self-destructive seventeen year olds
mind, never growing up but growing old
all the while because I can’t stop time

do I long for life or death now?
my post suicidal mind wouldn’t know
which one to tell you, I just stay scared
all the time because I can no longer tell
wrong from right

so I stay in the darkness when I greet
each decision of the day, my thoughts
haven’t been clear for a while and here I am

simply wondering if a cigarette and coffee
count as eating a meal

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

by Angela Bachmann