the dying of the light

mama, i did not rage
when the light died –
i died with it.
i died with it.
a thousand deaths have
taken place inside me
and i don’t yet understand
how i am still here,
living.
when the light died,
mama, i died too.
not even a flicker left,
i was extinguished from
the inside, total darkness
in my every room.
this world is cruel,
you taught me, and i
learned that early,
and during,
and after, and
again and again.
repetition, always –
the message sticks,
the message always the
same.
i did not rage, mama,
or i did, but
it made no difference.
i did not rage,
or i think i was rage,
and then i vanished.
a big bang, and after,
not a new world but
darkness.
the light is dead, mama,
or is dying,
and there was nothing
and there is nothing i
can do.
the light is dead, mama,
and i think i might be too.

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