Go Ahead With My Last Breath

Literally, I Die.

I am: so much

not a lot

a bit of it all

bullet-ridden and criss-crossed with discretion and mezzanine imagination

sleeping.

I am going to sleep

     going to see you later

     sleep with you later

I am 

we

   are so much

dieing

feel like I might

soon enough or not at all

I am going to live forever for ever

in and around infinity

infinite and gazing towards wherever ever ends.

going to wait forever for you

I am lieing

living

no, just lieing.

I am honest

not sure what truth there is

    going to have to deal with

I am stuck: on you, you’re great

    on death

I am sure it happens

not sure how

does a life die

or get up and walk away?

I am my grandfather,

he’s dieing, I s’pose

or else just moving on to whatever’s next.

I am sure I will do the same.

     going to miss him

going to write him a letter telling him who to say hi for me

in heaven

I am positive there is no heaven

this is heaven

I am the angel of some long dead soul living in their idea of heaven

I am going to make my heaven more stable

where money replaces rain and cigarettes cure cancer

I am going to make this life mine, I promise.

              leave it all behind, I swear.

       myself.

behind.

smoke ‘till I die

drink ‘till I drown.

I am drowning.

I am telling you.

I am drowning.

      done

      gone

      going to stick it out

just playing.

I am so lucky.

I am telling you.

I am so lucky.

I am in love with love

      with sorrow

the color blue

blood

I am

my blood

is blue

with melancholy.

I am getting up and walking away on a whole other level

and transcending my existence

and going nowhere.

I am the reflection of a windblown mind

of my mother’s soul

my father’s dreams

of my own apocalypse

drifting in and out of time.

I am watching time sway in the stars

the way falling in love sways in our arms

in and away from time

I am unaware of where time exists

I think it’s everywhere all at once

I want to say time doesn’t exist

but it has to

or else I wouldn’t be a quarter of the way to being dead.

I am

my family

is breaking apart

is all I ask for

putting the pieces back together.

I am going to make it

no matter f*****g what

I am going to disappear

like moments into memory

My moments are lost

into some stream of conscious posody rants

I am living because of words on a page

and smoke from a silver

and coffee from neglected labor

dharma from moonlit daydreams.

I am

you

are the Messiah

but only in your eyes.

I am forever

but only in your eyes.

I am not in control of my own clarity

That can’t be normal.

But I’m so quiet about it.

I suppose everyone else is, too.

I am in awe of the life ahead.

of how quickly life is over.

I hope it’s mixed with struggle and bliss and champagne and sex.

I’ve been thinking that

I would die when the last word is written,

it’s just a feeling,

so I’m going to go ahead with my last breath.

Reviews

[Megan]

Why the heck hasn't anyone reviewed this??! It's brilliant! I love the way this flows and how you really dive into the emotion your feeling. Its so raw and honest. I love the way it sounds like a cacophony of thoughts from a drunk. you capture life perfectly here, the pain, the fear, the loneliness, the desire, and the determination. This is poetry. This really called to my heart and I appreciate you posting this here. Amazing piece of work and I plan on reading a lot more :)
Thanks!

[Rene Velez]

WOW...a spiraling display of collected thoughts, immense, and I really like this line:

"I am the angel of some long dead soul living in their idea of heaven"

[emmajoy]

I've read this three times, and each time concluded differently. Maybe you've put yourself on a slide and are looking through a microscope, seeing self changing shape, colour, size, but then reversing the process; maybe you're a torrent of a muddle of thoughts and a gamut of feelings hung out to see, feel, experience; maybe you're just saying this is me, this what i was, am, will be. No, am still not sure! To me that's more than satisfying because poetry, like prose, perhaps more than prose, is supposed to make the heart move and the mind think .. in that case, you've done a good job on me.

[Grakercub]

god damn, the rhythm of this poem is incredible. I can only want more at the end and feel so distraught that this is all there is. "I hope it’s mixed with struggle and bliss and champagne and sex." God isn't that all we ever want?!