I was
No
I thought
I was almost
I could have been
I sat on a throne
Built for jesters
And silently tore my hair out
I thought my life was going to change
And I attacked myself
With a swiftness
A passion
Determination
That gave me hope
For my survival instinct
Because in an honest sense
That was what it was
My life on the line
Both figuratively
And literally
I promise
I promise death
When the elevator doors opened
It was all a dream
A fabrication
Of the fear within me
But I was ready and willing
I was doing my best
I was dreading the opportunity
But ready to take it
Tree bark on my tongue
I watered herbs of yore
With my eyes on a number
Within a plastic polygon
Ready to strike
At the lack of smoke
But what if the well ran dry?
What if I failed?
That is desperation
And I promise death
