There are nights

I wish that the world would end

that I could slip between the cracks of a broken earth

spiral into a depth of dark and damp and cool

have my eyes eternally closed,

away from all the wind and the storms and the sadness.

“You have not caused this”

I whisper excuses to myself as I sit before the altar

sacrificing time for the quick relief of becoming dust

begging silently for whoever runs this place

to let me sleep until a new sun forms,

until my breath is once again needed to sustain you.