Proven.

One.
Maw is sewn shut, eyes pulled wide
blood drains from my thoughts
I confess;
Only smiling to stay upright, to confide
is to break
shatter
until you are looking down on the ashes
of a once solid silhouette.

Two.
Dying for the touch of a hand
the confort of a breath, I concede (pride breaks down with a scream)
I want to
give
you
something to help me, to give an inch
or a mile
a sight of the darkness without the light
or maybe I'm wrong
is it light without darkness?

Three.
Strikes, they call them, chances;
Am I really losing myself to the whims of a greater death?
Without life there is no death
so I am trying
to prove
to prove
to