Time To Fly (POEM)

I don't know if it was watching The Raven (a movie about Poe solving murders done in the style of his stories), my melancholy mood brought on by holidays, or actually seeing a fly on the ceiling of my bathroom but this poem is purely a flight of fancy.  A morbid flight but nothing but a flight of fancy all the same.  I am not in the least bit suicidal.  That being said, I bring you... Time to fly!

 

Time to Fly

 

A fly crawled across the ceiling as my life ran out,
I watched it moving across the white ceiling with it's
swirled patterns.
It seems so strange to be mesmerized by a fly,
my last thoughts as I died.
I'd spent too many hours on the unhappy events of my life,
so many hours on guilt and despair,
and my last thought not of loved ones,
of those I left behind,
but of a fly crawling across the ceiling.
I chose death in this bathroom all blue and white,

the colors are peaceful I am told.
Peace washed over me as the blood ran out,
taking my life with it as it flowed down the drain.
I could not love myself,
and refused to believe anyone else could.
I longed to be adored,
cherished and protected.
It was not meant for me I suppose.
I hope they don't mourn too much,
those who believed they loved me.
I hope their thoughts of me are as inconsequential as a fly
crawling across a white swirled ceiling.