Don't wake in your coat in the morning light
and carry those stones into the river.
Don't find your father's pistol
in the attic, hidden in the family albums.
Don't. Don't pour the pills
into the whiskey, the walls dissolving
like your childhood. Don't, just don't choose
not to wake.
Stay. Just stay.
Tell yourself you'll do it tomorrow.
You can always walk alone into the darkness.
But not yet. Not yet. Not this soon.
I don't have a reason
to give you. All I have
is the morning, and the autumn wind,
and the child you once were
in the darkness, looking at the new moon
through the ruins, saying
save me, save me, save me,
and the moon looking back
with her vacant
face
saying I promise, I stone-
cold promise
that the face of utter
hopelessness
is the face of something just about to change.
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