Written by James Christopher Sheppard
And I say stop
Stop your drinking and stop your thinking.
Stop your smoking and stop your over capacitated need to complain.
This six-foot hole
will swallow you whole, no sign of the apocalyptic end
or even the celebration of continuation.
But if you stopped
what would you do? If not now, when?
Let the alcohol drown your blood or the tar crack your lung?
If I say stop
will it matter anyway? That hole is just a foot in front
Laying in wait for it’s feeding.
So if I stopped
what would I become without? If I sold all my belongings,
took my passport and left, would I find my real life after all?
The hole will gape always,
but you can creep away so long as you come back.
You can’t escape your destiny, which is that hole.