Why is dark ink worth more than my red blood?
A blood so pure and full of hopeful life.
The darkness stabs as a dull ballpoint knife,
Until I can no longer hear the thud
Of the slowly dying heart from within.
I am no longer a man but a line
Full of intricate swirls and loops aligned,
Forming a being that’s missing human skin.
I only want to make the choice right for me
But the future holds such uncertain fates,
That only leads me to my long debates
Of whether I should choose I, or choose thee.
I am just unsure of what success shall be
So for now, I will simply just be free.