When Will I Rest? Poem by Robin Bennett

Just like a black cat-
stalking all hallow's eve
born with nine lives
one life gone
with your torment
on Friday the 13th

Each light dimmed
in dead of night-
my husband caught stealing
the words to our song-
another simply red heart
his six pack of lives-
now drinking me to death

Just blood-
sweat
and tears am I-
a heart without a beat
on loan from the tin man
of Oz-
weighs on me like lead

I recall the January day-
when I died the first time
a rush of words
knocked me-
back in yesterday

Onlookers rushed to aid-
me in my torment
nursing drinks-
instead of me
staring blindly at death

So slow and painful
the next time-
death took the long road
life support for two weeks
plug just out of reach-

Struggling back to stand-
steady on all fours
dying is a true art form-
unlucky lives only now remain

Force fed a glass full of-
poisonous lies, flatlining
as the angel of death fails me
tell me when-
it is my time to crawl into
a lead box cold and dead-