Every passionless move, perfectly timed
Each scene plays out like a stolen pantomime
This page never seem so void of life
These words are dying, this pen is the knife.
The lights go out in my soul
I tried to explain that there’s nobody home
But the white coats just laugh and give me my pills
So it’s here I’ll just lay, perfectly still.
These dreams are alive, they’re haunting my mind
Sympathy is something you can spare me this time
The demons, they move in and cling to my heart
I wish this was the kind of game you could just restart
Oh, but life carries on, and I’m sure that it will
On this cold steel floor, I lie perfectly still.
We’re just actors in some elaborate lay
Whether the script’s been rewritten, they didn’t bother to say
With every word I speak, my body grows so weak
The days become hard to tell, this stress is living hell;
Some old clock ticks out the time, with each and every line
My eyes watch wearily, as the hands turn violently
I cannot see the end, and I cannot comprehend
Where’s the hope supposed to be? We're lost in our apathy.
The demons are held back only by the night
Maybe if I don’t sleep and stay here in the light
They’ll hold fast the darkness and scream in black tongues
But I fear I grow too weary, this battles all but won
And the doctors, they come, and absently say,
“We don’t have the will, we don’t have the way,”
Then the cold seeps in and wraps me in night,
but I don’t move an inch; I’m perfectly still.
"Perfectly Still" by Jason C. Clement
© Jason C. Clement |
Submission Name: Perfectly Still
