Finished

I have seen too much blood
Too many bodies
Splayed across gory floorboards
Draped over crimson beds
Slumped on shattered steering wheels
Or swaying from wooden rafters.

I am surprised to discover
I have an inner quota
And can stuff and pack
Not one more dead child
Fresh-faced teen
Or broken woman or man
Into my ledger of the dead.

I discovered this
By loosing all composure
While lying in bed
On the apron of an eve
When suddenly all those empty
Lifeless eyes
Spilled from my heart
To shatter the night.

Step by step
An inch at a time
I have eased away from the certainty
Of one more dance with death.
I have no further word of comfort
Not another expression of compassion
Or prayer for the dying.

I am finished.

I guard my heart.
I protect myself from the Reaper.
He will come for me someday
And that’s fine with me.
But please do not ask
That I stand watch
When he comes for you.