your demons consumed you
or did you consume too many of them-
linen on strings attached from one window to the other
blow cold from windy nights
to searing days
end of a rope with looming decisiveness
idly play in the diameter
of nothing and incredulous dare
fingers dance on the strings
feet on chair
rings on fabric threatening to fall to the streets below
never to be blessed again by a kiss
can't put the calamity out
unless you had a nano second to yourself
to drink more demons down
some empty souls will tell you it's selfish
others will miss you now that you're gone
