My Exit

Embarrassed possession with my obsession, cold, looking for the way out. A witness to torture that follows me around and gives no shadow of a doubt. La, la, la, la, here I am and it’s about to rain. All I do is make noise as you seek your new way of fame. Counting backwards from ten to one I exit stage left with great haste. Automatic there is static in my mental attic as you see me as a waste. I am closed because business has been shattered. Stained windows have been busted in as I discover I never really mattered. Ding, ding, ding the bell rings out while agony cuts to the bone. Allow me now to add blues to ice as I make a change to the tone. I bleed as the seed is freed and all I need is to cultivate. The vine on my spine is far from fine but all you do is whine as down comes the gate. Finger on the trigger I was taken down as you arranged your assessment. I am not known and nothing needed by you, but blade to the throat I snatch away; I make my exit.