I tend to think of the end a lot.
Like I am the end of everything.
I am the end of the world,
of my world.
Yours will go on,
much nicer, smoother.
Mine will continue
like a rickety train,
on an old rusted track.
I will continue to suffer,
you’ll continue to laugh.
I’ll be your joke,
you’ll be the comedian.
I am the trusted,
let down, never seen again.
I wish I was better,
like a few words of poetry
will stop this suffering,
But the world is sunny right now.
In my heart it is thundering.
My mind is stuck on one thought.
Uttered out loud comes murder.
I am screaming fuck you in my head,
but all I’m really doing
is ordering fries with my burger.
Everything is a tragedy with me.
My thoughts are so insignificant.
The only original thing about me
is my fingerprint.
Gone in an instant,
a moment of remembrance.
then all you will stop,
blow out your birthday candles,
or open your Christmas presents.
Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly. His third book, Train of Thought 2: Almost Home is available now at the Oddball Book Store.