A CEASELESS DESCENT

Upon crossing my ankles
and kicking back
my chair,
I muse upon this noose;
how frequent it has broke
my fall this year.

They told me it gets better
after I hit bottom, but
what, I wonder, does one hit
after the bottom drops out?

I am stuck hanging
on to nothing;
free falling
sans terminus.

Even my end is without
end. This life,
the length of this life.

It just
goes on.

written on 10/23/2013 by: Matt Kane