Loose a bright and strong ray of sunlight,
Wrap it twice, nice and tight around my neck,
And string me up to hang from the plastic stars
That glow in the dark above your bed each night.
I promise not to make a sound as I wiggle around
Gasping for breath. Until my death
I’ll swing in circles like a morbid mobile.
And maybe you’ll be happy, which will make me happy, too.
Because even though I’ll be dead, hanging above your bed
My hypnotic rotations will put your conscience at ease.
And I can look down on you like an angel who fell short of heaven,
And maybe you’ll be happy, which will make me happy, too.
Sometimes the inability to help someone you love can feel rip you apart. Thank you for reading.
–Rafiki
