I want to remember a time

when death was scary

when death was the darkness in the tunnel

and not the light at the end of it.

I want to remember a time

when walking into a kitchen

was not so scary

when my mind did not kick

and scream

about the knives in the drawer

and the blood they can draw

and the fast clean finish

their blades could bring.

I want to remember a time

when breathing was easy

and sleeping was easy

and worry and pity

did not bother me so much.

Now they knock at my door

at all the wrong hours

and every hour

is the wrong hour.