The Jack of Shadows Gives In by Christopher
I give until I have no more life to give
Filtering out rationalities through the moral sieve
Breath beating against my chest, screaming to live
Asking acceptance is easier than asking to forgive
No one questions the marks, no one stares at the way
I'm always wearing red: I can stand straight, I sway
From lack of blood/options, frustration has only one use
To solve the common cold with a practical noose
Every closed eye is a black thought, times change,
An ocean in appearance, shifting from normal to strange
In the mirror I watch my expressions wither and rot
Beneath obscure depths artificial emotions can still be bought
My face old, swollen, brittle: just praying to be killed
A self-annihilation promise: just waiting to be fulfilled
Contrived motions set in place to manipulate voice
Concealing substantial evidence as a method of choice
Tempting death just to prove I actually exist
Holding belief tight between a clenched fist
I take until I have no more death to take
Swallow until the belly is swollen and mind aches
Stay conscious vomiting up blood while the body shakes
And in the burning morning the ever-faithful machine still wakes