And here I thought it would all be fine

It would be fine to not wake up after this,
I'm consigned to never speak again
that tonight could be my final rest;
a spinning car highway
and a plain brick wall
in a black and white photograph.
If all the thoughts that lead
up till now
were a premonition
I'd say forget the pen and ink,
just leave the paper blank
oh I'm so tired of my own company
and the last leg of this road
where there's no one to talk to,
your feet move too quickly
dear, to hold your hand again
I'd say Awake! Awake!
But from then to now
all I hold in these fingers
are your letters made soft
from crying eyes and clenching fists.
I'm consigned to never open eyelids again,
and from where the old ways are gone
it would still hurt to look down upon you.
Good god, I mean it when I say
I wish to never wake again.