My eyes are burned from staring too intently into the light.
I need the dark to soothe me a bit,
to wrap me up and tell me it’s alright to be low
to be blue
to be less for a while.
I don’t want to be more than this.
That suggests I can get ahead of it somehow,
that I can be larger than it feels
When all I feel is overwhelmed.
No matter how many sunsets are counted
Sometimes there’s just no bright side.
I wanted so much to tie last ride into this poem
to appease the prompt gods
but there is a dark moist corner of hell
reserved for forced poetry that rhymes for the sake of it.
Eh, fuck it.
(let the sorrow be your guide
whether your first, or worst, last ride)