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if not living then dead if dead
then why try to stay alive...die
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this would be the words
sensible written on a yellow
sticky note stuck to a page
in a notebook a guest left
behind in a room on a
dresser in front of a mirror
found by a weary traveler
making maid made beds
a home while contemplating
committing suicide in an
attempt to commune with god
finding life to be most depressing
ordering dinner from room service
thinking it could possibly be
the last supper of one who
has suffered long enough
to tie a knot in a rope and
string it up staring at the
bright lemon yellow tag
haunting tearing apart
every thought of self loathing
as if the cancerous brain tumor
is not enough throwing the
dinner napkin into the
dinner plate of roast beef
residue plucking the note
from the book to take one
more sad look at the sun