The Only Thing I Will Regret

I wear a noose around my
ghostly bruised neck.
A rope with frayed edges
that chafes my skin
because when it's impossible
I want at least have the strength
to blow out the candle

(Ants will crawl on my skin
feasting on the soot in my lungs
and whatever is left
of my empty body
and dead eyes,
but I know that
no moths will flutter around
someone so lifeless
or so dark

And that will be the only thing
I will regret)