Immolate

We like to afford, to those in great distress
the right to end their suffering. We say –
in dulcet tones — that they have the choice to end
be their cancer or disease or awful pain
We are right to afford that solace to those
who need release
but what of the others
who suffer in infinitesimal and infinite amounts?
what of the emotional suffering you discard even as you say
that they are loved or wanted or needed?
in my new-found sobriety I question it
the how much is too much
and why should those who labour under
the intensity of the too much
be afforded less than those whose physical agony
overwhelms. Is my torture less somehow
because it has no physical cause? Is your suffering in some way
reduced for lack of a nerve ending or tumorous growth?
I am sober now, for now, right now
and while I might be less inclined to share that
bitter pill, it hits harder for lack of the intermediary
from Hamlet to Camus we have asked the question
would be it nobler to suffer, or to end all
in the choice of Ophelia, we see answer
resounding through time; painted
on a river flow and impasto impressionism
There is no solace for the damned, as there is none
for the ravening hunger of tumefaction
if you would be kind, then let us go
as you would those who push the pump
to eternal end in their distress and their glory
let us too, sleep
without guilt or guile or shame
let us too, dream no more
and be forgot in course

6 thoughts on “Immolate

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