• My eyes are sunken,
    My skin is egg white.
    My face lifts towards the sky,
    And my arms stretch towards flight.
    I can feel my throat vibrating,
    My voice is deflating.
    A crowd of people gather around,
    Watch my mouth move as I don't make a sound.
    I'm an outline in a sea of solid shadows,
    A difference in a crowd, hanging by the gallows.
    I feel aloft against these covetous eyes,
    Their teeth sharp and grinning, mouth full of flies.
    And I'm slowly asphyxiating.
    And I'm slowly preparing to die.
    And I ask myself, could I ever fly?