rounded bite marks break the lips of reason

I suppose I see the logic

in life [a break from death]

in death

[a break from life]

the edges are soft and I'm on the verge

in this padded cell of mine

today I'm imagining car wrecks

feeling glass shatter in my straight jacket

I'm on tiptoe

syringe to skin and muscle to trigger

and I find that I am an observer

noticer of the little things

participant through the looking glass

taking notes to live, to breathe, to break

you know the reality set 

by the patterns in my heartbeats

the despair chewing my veins

please, for my sake hold me down

as the writhing of my cells 

breeds disgusting logic

I swear that life

is just [a break from death...]