Wasted Poem by Ashley Akari

The sheets are too white,
The air too clean,
And I never thought
Death so hard

Shoved up against
My bedroom door
With my little brown jar
Of vile green pills.

No.

Death was escape,
Like dismal music,
And the deep, deep black
Of my dyed straight hair….

A black more permanent,
More solid, more true.

But the truth crashed,
Crushed, divided and tore –
Like the pole that ripped
My car in two.

With a smashed face
And smashed limbs
I heard the blackbirds sing
In tune with my first breath.

Life is beautiful.

The sheets are too, too white,
The air is far too clean –
All the things I’d do again,
All the places I’d see.

All your dear faces are swimming
And the great, big world is spinning….

The big, jingling machine’s still beeping,
But in my heart a blackbird’s singing.

Beep, beep

Beeeeeep.

………………