What have I done to elicit this fate?
My hands turn bluer by the second,
Number by the minute
I'm dying by the hour.
But what do you care?
You've created this damage,
Imagined this chaos,
Left me in this wreckage.
If you're really beyond loving
Then I guess I am, too.
Because after everything you've said to me
I still warp my image on the likes of you.
So leave me here to die in peace
Or at least as peaceful as it can be.
Leave me in my dug up grave,
A tiny drop in the roaring dead sea.
J. Cross
P