“I will do it after I…”
“I’ll be doing that. But it’s going to have to wait until after…”
“When I’m older, after they…”
Light this word on fire.
Douse it in gasoline and paint thinner.
Bury it deep underneath tinder and newspaper and bundle it with all the others,
The late notes,
Your homegrown tardy slips,
Your date book,
The twine you wrap around your fingers,
And take a long drag from your cigarette before you toss it in,
Set the whole pile of it into a wildfire.
Take off your clothes and in the pale of gray midnight,
Offer the lamb of your soul to the gods of
They won’t wait for you anymore.
When your time comes, they will not say,
“We will come back after”
They will break your bones
They will tie your hair
They will drag you behind them
Time isn’t a human construct;
And every other moment that is not