The Beginning of The End

I woke up in the morning and stared out of my grimy windows. It was hot. It was muggy. It was airless. And it matched my mood to a t.

Yes, this heavy feeling had settled in my belly a long time ago. I had tried to ignore it. Resisted driving off the edge of that lonesome highway to crash into oblivion. Poured strong spirits down my throat. Same reason.

Fell sick. Got better. Fell sicker. Got better. Fell sick again. (If it doesn’t kill you, it can only make you weaker)

So how much more before the last time?

I felt things unraveling. How are you supposed to hold on when the threads are frayed and you can’t weave them back together?

No tapestry.

Only tiredness and dust.

Only smoky airless heat.

I know what I have to do.

And I’m afraid to do it.