At last, it proved too much,
Death has finally beat me with their cold touch,
I am the one who would lose,
There's no chance for me to choose,
I have to go,
The strain's killing me so slow,
It has intelligence,
It has pain and vengeance,
It knows how to hurt me the most and how to kill me,
I can do nothing as it suffocates me slowly,
Once easy, breathing has become the hardest task,
True terror swipes away my fake happy mask,
I can't breathe,
It's dark shadows hover over me and forces me to believe,
There's no way out,
No way to make a sound or shout,
My feet going numbed first,
It's dark shadows climbing higher, I can feel it's thirst,
It squeezes my heart,
Breathing was the hardest part,
Unsatisfied, it starts for my throat,
I can see clearly the dark cloud it uses for a coat,
Horrified was I on the sight,
I held on to whatever was left with all my might,
My eyes rolled back,
My world becoming the darkest of black,
And how I should have thought of living once again,
Would forever lay in the determination of my hand,
I went for it doing what it did to me,
My vision becomes clear, now I can see,
Rapidly, my heart starts to beat again,
I jumped to my feet and stared at my own 2 hands,
These very hands that have done so much,
These pale hands that feels cold at one's first touch,
These hands that worked every day,
These hands have saved my life today,
The life I once thought I didn't need,
The life when I used to cut my wrists & watch it bleed,
Suddenly, it felt so good to live again,
My hands were no special hands,
Death didn't understand that I have intelligence,
It didn't understand that I have pain and vengeance,
With every cherished breath I now understood,
Beneath it's dark, cloudy hood,
Stands the darker mirrored image of me,
I turned away thinking it was hideous to see,
Forgetting that I had hid my own face underneath a mask,
And gave false answers of my condition when anyone had to ask,
I realize now that it was just my conscious,
And that when two dark, but lonely forces,
Face each other's fears,
Only then does it become clear,
That the one suffocating now,
Was the one who knew how,
How painful it was to suffer,
How painful it was to be a loser,
How painful it was to breath,
And how painful it was to trust again and believe,
But today, I wasn't the loser,
Death wasn't my chooser,
I'm the one suffocating now,
And I'll be the one to change my life back around.
