My last journey
Dear God, these days have drained me of all life. When I thought I couldn't go any deeper into it, I sunk down further. When I thought I couldn't lose anything else, I lost still more. Maybe thinking is what's doing me in. I guess I don't get the point, and it's not like I ever did. Maybe I just need to see the end of me so you can show me that I'm not really in control. It seems that the end is as near as I want it to be. I want to walk through the cold and cutting wind and into the forest, to sit under a tree until sleep overcomes me. And never wake up. Let the wind molest me. Let the rain fall down. Let the coyotes tear my flesh. Let the beetles and the mice clean my bones. And let the ravens scatter them. The sun will bleach my bones. My flesh will return to the earth. And all the things that perplex me, haunt me, drive me, break me, cut me, and laugh at me will cease to exist. If I lay down under this tree, maybe I w...