Continuity

And oblivion

This world was ending.
That’s when I shouted to the dark.

Perhaps I only wanted emptiness
The silent resurrecting echo of my screams.

But solitude was the defining moment of peace.
And in such moments, the unexpected is passable.

But it was becoming necrotic
Like the strings of my heart.

This world is dying.
And that’s when I called out in the dark.

Just to hear the echo,
Of the one who let me down.

The blood on my arm is no problem
I proudly wear my heart on my sleeve

Knives, daggers, blades, and scars
Every feature defines me.

Waiting in the dark for the echo
Of the last thing I know or say

This world is ending,
Not by my choosing, choice, or wish

And from the darkness, I expect the echo -
Instead, I hear another final wish.