I sometimes find myself wondering.
I wonder where we’ll be in
five years,
and whether the world
will still turn.
I wonder what lies before me,
awaiting time,
hoping that my last breath
isn’t tonight.
I wonder whether religion
will exist,
and if heaven is for me
or hell.
I wonder if death will hurt,
or relieve
me from my life,
finally free.
I wonder what you will think,
when you
strip my clothes from me,
and see.
I wonder if you expect them,
the scars,
marks going nowhere,
just stuck.
I wonder if you’ll walk away,
wondering why
and asking me how,
and go.
I wonder if you’ll stay,
accept them
and know they are me,
part of me.