"For I Have Sworn Thee Fair..."

I don't want to think.  I don't want to see.  Sleep's deepest black is the sweetest part.  Shock: a white river, that swirls, blasts and tumbles.  Dashed up upon these shores; awake for now.  I don't want to understand this.  To have my injuries unveiled.  These truths rewrite a past that I hold to like a drowning man.  Time is no help: an hour, a month, the broken back of a year.  The torrent tosses yesterday, fresh, onto now.  Better to look away.  I am so weary.  Feel it tug at my ankles, pulling me back.  Rough mercy.  Close my eyes -- and hope for fairer shores.