Witnesses, we are here to carry out the sentence of the court. Mr. Habits... before we proceed, do you wish to make a final statement? _______________________________________ Hot pavement, heat rising off the street, bare feet, nowhere I needed to be. Somebody smoking by an open window, radio low, barely carrying the beat. Dog two houses over barking at the gate, screen door snaps, somebody calls his name. Nothing happened worth remembering. Funny what the mind decides to save. I could lose a whole afternoon and never wonder where it went. Spend a week like pocket change, never ask what I had spent. There was always something after another night, another try. I never thought a moment could be over while I was still inside. Tomorrow was always there, waiting somewhere past the dark. I could burn a day and call it nothing, wake up where another starts. There was time to make the phone call, time to leave or change my mind. I thought endings gave you warning. I never noticed the last time. I spent years making room for appetite, calling every want a need. If a thought came sharp enough, I'd follow just to see where it would lead. There were moments I could've stopped not because I didn't know. I knew exactly where the line was. I just liked deciding where to go. No devil whispered in my ear. No hand reached down and made the choice. Most of what a man becomes happens quietly, in his own voice. And now memory skips the obvi-obvious, leaves the worst where it already lies brings back a grocery store near closing, one bad wheel pulling left beneath the lights. Tomorrow was always there, waiting somewhere past the dark. I could burn a day and call it nothing, wake up where another starts. There was time to make the phone call, time to leave or change my mind. I thought endings gave you warning. I never noticed the last time. Leather tight around my wrists. A clock above the door. A man asks if I want water. I say no. Then ask for more. There's glass across the room. Nobody looks for very long. They ask me for my final words. A hundred crowd my mind. Every sentence wants to matter. None of them will fall in line. No revelation. No clean way to make the past align. Just the sudden stupid clarity I'd give anything for more time. Tomorrow was always there, waiting somewhere past the dark. I could burn a day and call it nothing, wake up where another starts. There was time to make the phone call, time to leave or change my mind. I thought endings gave you warning. I just want another one to arrive. I never noticed the last time. _______________________ They already asked for final words. I thought I'd have something to say. But nothing sounds important now with morning less than a world away. No sudden peace. No answer waiting. No meaning I can make arrive. Just one more breath becoming precious because I know how few survive. All my life tomorrow meant later. Something certain. Something mine. Tonight I finally understand it there won't be another one this time.
