Sometimes death beckons, and I am tempted,
not the permanent peace or scary spectre
but rather the dearth of the feeling inside.
Sometimes I want to drown, an eternal baptism,
absolution solution for the lack within me
that is filled with smoke but has no flame.
Maybe if I were to reach the sun and burn,
feel the flames flickering through my heart
I would be able to bear the darkness within.
But I am dying to breath meaning into this,
so much so that I forget to hate the suffocation,
and inhale frustration to refill my smoke chamber.
Maybe I am a masochist looking for a match,
or an arsonist trying to drown desire in flames.
Perhaps I am deep sea diver searching in silence
or just a mime mimicking the motions mindlessly.
I am a machine tin man searching for a heart,
a killer consumed,craving the courage to go crazy.
Maybe, I am suicidal.
Or maybe, I just want to feel