what could be a mere thought could also be my last, for when the day comes, i shall twist my head lie on the ground and let the crippling ants eat my rotting skin
to feel so grim; a fickle heart continues to beat, to await the day of utter silence to feel so complete; my fickle heart dreams of the succumbing to despondence, the breathing of my limbs, the death of my head, and the blood in my skin