If only new people
would stop being born
I could truly
abandon all hope,
but there they are —
everywhere I look,
bomblets of possibility.
It seems a form of evil
to despair in their presence.
Damn their soft heads,
damn the time stretched out
before them, time I used to have.
Babies are contradiction
and affirmation at the same time.
If they’d stop being born,
I could finally settle for darkness.
Dark Matter 