nde
i stab a pencil through the back of my neck
and pull it out the front
the whistle and whine of the breeze winding through
echoing calamity of my voiceless grunt
tears could fall, but void of heart
evaporate
too rapidly to drown me
that shake, that flail of the shock to my brain
far too insincere
to save me
but easily brings me to my knees
my vision spins, my panic consumes me
but i know that this
is not really real
for i -
i -
i can never die
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