Dangerous Wishes VII

One of these days...

Desire, will at last, be my doom‐

whether defined, or denied...

What difference does it make?

Whether I die to myself, by myself, or from myself...

Death is Death–

Oh...

please, forgive my speech, or not...

it is so, that I can only say that I used to care-

This love‐less language is a reflection of my heart...

or at least, what used to be‐

what now is simply a representation of apathy.

I'm almost certain of what will be the end of me...

I don't have anything left to care about how it all comes to be‐

one of these Dangerous Wishes will eventually come to reality...

I can only hope that it will be the last one that list that finally comes to be.

But even uglier than what I write here,

the doubt that remains unspoken...

my refusal to "get my hopes up"

the hatred that reflects from the mirror...

or how every night I burn this list,

only to re-write it the following morning‐

my most Dangerous Wishes—

Which of these desires will, at last, be my doom?...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank You For Reading!!!

Here are some other very similar stories of mine! :)