Archaic methods transfer through
well in the face of mass denial.
Bitterness fuels the mode
for the escape of mediocrity.
Stepping the grate,
shattered nerves ground down
to a glass edge carrying me away.
Bloodletting a favorite game of solitaire.
A suicide mission destined to fail,
a moving ladder to climb taking me away.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
