i know the decay before death
a rotting from the inside out
an aching of bone, teeth, and flesh
a blade to the chest you can’t pull out

lock me alone in my mausoleum
leave me alone for just three days
when jesus did it they believed him
blood still trickles warm in my veins

not stone cold to the touch
but stone cold to the feel
there is no adrenaline rush
no reality that feels truly “real”

see, i’m not quite yet dead
but also not still quite alive
caught somewhere in-between
stuck in the “i can’t decide”

i’m searching for the right word
to describe what i’m feeling now
and i have a steady heartbeat
that feels more like a countdown
kind of like a phantom touch
without the falling through
kind of like cursed persephone
after she bit the forbidden fruit