To Maybe Wake, To Maybe Not
The  Parkway near my  Condominium, 2003

Stumbling,
Tripping,
Over
My own feet.

Eyes closing,
Closing,
Closing.
So hard
To keep them
From closing.

Barely aware
Of my
Surroundings.
Trying so hard
To focus
On taking one step
After another,
Just one more step,
And then another.

Overdose, I think.
So much pain this morning.
Slapped my Fentanyl Patch
Right over my spine.
Didn’t help much
On my shoulder.
So maybe, I thought,
It might do more
On my spine.

That’s if I thought
At all,
Of course.

Sometimes in a daze
Of pain and drugs,
I hardly knew
What I was doing.

But I did know,
With practical certainty,
That if I lay down to rest
On that particular day,
If I dared to give in,
For even a moment,
Then I might not get up again,
Not on that day,
Nor ever again.

Barely remember
That morning.

Barely remember
That whole day.

Just remember
Those moments,
By the river,
Trying so hard
To focus.

To focus
On putting
One foot
In front
Of the other.

Barely conscious.
Eyes closed.
Stumbling
In my waking sleep.

I wonder sometimes
Why I didn’t just give in.
Could have rested
On my bed,
Or on the grass,
In the sun,
And maybe slept
The long sleep.
The restful sleep.
The pain-free sleep.
The forever
And ever
Sleep.

That day,
It would have been so easy.
To stop.
To lie down.
To sleep.
To maybe wake.
To maybe not.