Seen too much- it’s true, I made mistakes and pierced the veil.
Now I plead for life and simply hope to no avail.
A dozen signs of something greater, how far is the grasp?
Don’t think I’ll get the chance to learn, my life cut further than a half.
Black cats, thirteens, trees, eyes and wings and hell.
Maybe it’s something simpler or much worse than I can tell.
Grand a scheme or small in scope, it make no difference to me.
One brain can only imagine the twisting web, so volatile and deep.
I wish I had direction, a way to stray from this wicked path.
I know they see me struggle, it probably makes them laugh.
I remain a bit ambivalent about my complete and certain death.
Why wouldn’t they have killed me already? They had chances in breadth.
It’s such an odd thing to come upon, does the knowledge make me unclean?
A good person would speak- yet I’m not bursting at the seams.
I merely crave survival, it’s one of the few things i can feel.
Perpetuate the irony of my life, when what I’m living isn’t real.