In the Process of Death

by Matt   Sep 1, 2007


It's never been done like this before
I've never torn myself apart before
Never ripped my fibers to shreds
As the soft, warm blood drips down
The skin of the hollow being it betrays
Watching my eyes in the mirror
While the blood drains from the knuckles
As they grip around the edges of the public sink
The scenes play in the black of the dead eyes
Breaths become deeper, cold sweat forms on the brow
The mirror breaks, shards slash through
Please, I'm begging you, take the gun
Put it to my head and paint the walls red
Let them feel the stories I've lived
Cuff my wrists and let me rot
In the dark gallows of the abandoned stairs
Where we shared moments in secret
Like we would last forever in our game
I've lost, I concede, you win
Take my life but make it slow
I want to feel every last beat of my heart
As it cries out to the deaf God above
That allows His people to go on living like I do.

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