The Last Task


Everything is going according to plan.

The letters are sealed—
ink dried into quiet goodbyes,
stacked neatly in places
they’re meant to be found.

Teachers receive their careful lines,
formal, distant,
as if absence can be explained
in proper tone.

You cancelled your phone service,
you wont be needing it anymore,
The cat is fed,
the trees drink deeply,
roots and fur unaware
of endings.

Everything is in order.
You reach for the glass,
water trembling in your hand,
Your lips touch the rim,

But you hesitate,
then swallow.

Silence.

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  1. lyraxo

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