Autobiography
Location
Death is a mask
Sewn into the skin
It covers the face
So the mouth never wins
Death isn't what kills
It’s the plug that does it
Whether you drown in your words
Or spit fire at dozens
The mask is the start
It’s the silence that ends
It’s when the damn breaks
And flows the pain shepherds tend
When death first touches your skin
The body goes into shock
Defenses kick in
Protecting the heart in lock
Fighting with dark lines
Written in your red
Piles of pills
Building fog in your head
Death wears you like clothes
Silently screaming truth
Yet still outside it’s quiet
Once he’s inside you
Organs can try
And others certainly fail
They’ll pump you with poison
Feeble attempts to lift the veil
So talk all you want
That mask is still there
Vying for the time
When it can take you to chair
Sometimes it rips
Small chunks at a time
So that you can start speaking,
But still strangled with lies
Paying with piles
Of your own silver and gold
To bill for the walls
That hide mistakes of old
Eruptions of magma
Permeate the people
Hiding from the victims
By white gown,
Clover,
And steeple
Pray and keep preying
Don’t eat and medicate
You can’t take it off
This mask is your fate
Collect all the rips
To feed your little lies
Holding them closely
To lay comfortably on railroad ties
When the tracks start to scar
When the rope’s being tied
When the water gets closer
When idle, the car lies
That’s when you know
That this mask has had it’s fun
It’s not your fault
What’s done is done is done
Still, don’t be afraid
The mask will go soon
Death is a mirror
Death
has become
you.