Holding my own hangman’s rope Nope, just holding my own Sweating at the foot of the skyline Squinting my eyes into the bright night Staging a show for the satellites In an implied assembly So it’s a song for the unseen And I’m projecting it proudly The strength in my voice from the get-go Diminished returns with each echo Life as a slow decrescendo Hit the high note and then coast Better off in a pine wood box No I’m not, I’m just better off And attempting to get my point across by Expending the strength that I saved up From a decade and change as a lame duck Euphoric then drained in the ensuing rush Not that I want to gloss over The arc for the eventual smolder But it’s not easy to stave off the closer It’ll argue the law to the letter But the goal was never “forever” Life as the rests in the measures Sometimes the less, the better But what if it’s not a mistake To engage in the debate? Then again, what if it is? If it’s a monolith and everything’s determinist Then that’s a weight off of my ribs And I might even actually live Comfortable and prosperous In the warm hug of indifference I see the scythe as it’s coming for me No, actually, I finally just see
