The Fine Line

There is a fine line between
making an attempt and thinking of it.
The divide will see you sleep eternally
or writhe countless hours in misery.

There is no solace in the silence
between the seconds ticking away.
Ears still ringing from the maelstrom
raging within your mind's abysmal chasm

Don't slight it.
There is hell to pay.
Expect it and prepare.
Wait for your heart to burn.

Pray for your sanity to stay.

What little hope remains
can yet be salvaged
if you can stomach
the reality of what's left.

What is left to feel now
but agony and despair?
Surviving, now, is a sin
tattooed deep beneath the skin.