I’d rather be dead
Than be half aware
I desire ignorance
More than a blank stare.

I try to feel with numb fingers
I try to see through cataracts
No taste, no smell where I be
Nothing to hear through the wax.

But why do I know this?
To what purpose am I aware
Of my dead senses
Should I care?

Can I awaken from this sleep?
Can I open my eyes and listen?
Or will I forever be aware
That I am not aware?