The moon is smothering the empty city parks
As I walk these unkind streets alone in the dark.
Nobody knows what happened or where I went.
No one notices until you do not pay your rent.
The blood in my veins is slowly cooling down,
Losing its red tint and growing putrid and brown.
My palms are paler than the moon over my head.
God, please do not tell them that I am dead.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 