goodnight

your frozen
mug, stuck
from stroke,
the edges of
your rebel lips
tilted forever
down, no
smile to rise,
and your eyes,
so horrifically
blue, now
full of fear
where once
there was mutiny
on every deck
of every day.
when once you leaped
each hurdle, or
knocked walls
down, not
now, with
your body
stiffened in
a curl
within this
iceberg of muted
life. the words
you want to
say, now left
behind, the puddle
of you is a soft
quiet candle
that whispers
goodnight,
goodnight.