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Vacant Jar

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My soul is a jar of fireflies.
Sometimes I sit and wonder if it would have become dark & obscure,
if the light would be dying...
if I am suffocating like the fireflies in a jar.

Taking a life is not hard,
in fact I see people do it every day.
Joseph takes a bottle of pills,
Madi takes a rope and a gun,
Kaelin takes a knife to his heart
with each small knick he makes in his own skin.

Squash the pest under our shoe,
tell fabricated lies to make you happier,
make them suffer while you cackle above them.

I am sure that as the cacophony of mad sound floods their ears,
they were screaming.
You can't hear through glass.

With each labored breath I take,
someone somewhere is dying.
Chances are, they had beautiful souls once.
They smiled, laughed gaily,
their eyes twinkled like the fireflies do,
until their light died inside a jar.





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