She struggles to cry just to feel the heat on her cheeks,
She is desensitized, her heart rock hard.
Thoughts of resuscitation have long since died.
The moment her tears fall, she has conceded victory.
She is a failure as much as she’s a success story.
The flitter of light is slowly diminishing.
A i r
There is still hope left!
A thrash, a fling, a kick, a swing-
There is still hope,
God, let there still be hope,
Will you forgive me?
Will I forgive myself?
I regret it all,
Her feet are bound. She chose for them to be. The last of the bubbles from her lungs break the surface of the cesspool.
She faces the reality that
Only in death is she finally free.
We are not saints.
I hate that I pretend to be at least decent here.
Now when I see the nicest person I will ever meet,
I’ll know that even he is hiding something.