Broken Records

How many more times?...

will I be told that Life is a gift‐

as if I don't already know.

How much longer?...

must this "game of survival" continue‐

as if I can't just forfeit my last breath at any minute remaining.

This spiteful fantasy has plagued my mind for long enough...

teasing, and tormenting me‐

as if I can't reach and cut that string it hangs from.

But—

Both I, and it...

and every other fatal wish that has ever crossed this space behind my eyes‐

all know, and all too well

that only I can cut that string, but...

that would be me, admitting defeat‐

as if I can let that happen.

How many more?...

days will I stand against Despair out of pure spite‐

as if Time were ever on my side.

How many more?

nights will Slumber's Absence continue to tell the world of its favorite forms of torment‐

as if the public hasn't already heard enough.

How much longer?

must this "game of survival" continue‐

as if I don't have the choice to allow my heart to beat its last at any given moment.

How many more?

"presents" will this "gift" of Life bestow upon me‐

as if I don't have a voice to just reject them all.

How much longer?...

must this broken record play‐

as if I couldn't just...