Living red writing drips
like the tears of my wounds.
as the room rotates rapidly
silence suffocates my spinning tomb.

Hopelessly i cling at straws
only finding pencils
as I drown in this page.

my ice cold corpse cracks  
as my eyes fill with feint flames,  
and a ghoulish grin masks a grim gaze,
as I set my sights on deaths empty eyes
I issued a defiant challenge, daring him
to try take this tormented teen.

Did he flinch!
Or
was it a fallacy, formed from
My own measure of madness?