Broken, don’t function.
Frozen, eruption.
Stiff before explosion.
Processing in slow motion.
Stiff, waiting, breathing.
Is it living?
Breaking, dying but always finding a new way.

I am dying, I am standing up high, I can’t bend.
I am walking through the dark blue.
All that dark blue shimmering and my face and my eyes.
And my dark hair almost dry now in the wind.

Hearing my footsteps on the pavement and the bass drum in my ear.
Final chapter, making it worth sticking around for.
Final chapter, making it matter.
I can opt out at any time now.
Nothing to lose.