An echo in time reverberating reaches me again and again - - louder each succession
The silhouette of a suicide splatters the pavement just over my shoulder
-A piece of trash to be thrown away.
But disregard this dismissal, I'm still with you now.
This stain's presence is undeniable though, you know this has to happen eventually...
I feel as though the truth itself is captive in all this, for to speak it's name is to summon it's awful presence.
-A punishable offense to be met with seizure and entrapment in the name of greater good (Bah!)
Tell me though, who gave you the right to take the right away from me?
Perhaps one day you'll learn to understand this; that not all choices are given, some are simply ****** upon you.
The option is optional, but the choice is not given.