crimson tallies glisten across my skin
to remind me that I am losing an uphill battle
they poison me with weak thoughts from the devil’s tongue
as they remind me of how much I’ve lost
and how much I could have had

I have no grasp on anything that can ease my suffering
the only way to cure emotion is with feeling
but even while my heart beats, my body can no longer respond
all that is left is the pain of what I have left behind
and what I will never experience again

the masterpiece of scarlet stains on a bedsheet is my victor's parade
as I close my eyes for the last time
and forfeit the match