Suicides Defence Attorney

I am bound to the chains of my past

My wrists bleed as the chains tighten their grip

My fingers start to tingle, as they grow the colors of a fierce storm

I am a loaded gun with a faulty trigger

I fire round after round, magazine after magazine

Because the safety isn’t on

I am a wilting rose, with sharp thorns on its stem

I had the potential for beauty, sultry red petals of romantic ideology

But I had no water or sun, I was stripped of my nutrients

I am bound to a box

With no holes to breath

So I suffocate on the stifled screams I suppress deeper and deeper

I don't feel conventional

I am in constant moratorium

I fall short each day, each month, each year

My life has reached its expiration

And the longer I go on, my insides rot and the smell lingers in my nose

My organs are failing

And every alarm in my being is ringing so loud, so often, so painfully

But my heart refuses to give up

To give up

Give up

To let your body do what it needs to do

To lay down your sword because the cuts of your oppression have gotten too deep, too infected, and too fatal

Is it giving up?

Or is it the answer