robotfuckface

one more little cut across the wrist
nowhere strong enough to make a fist
as if somehow i'd bother to resist
as if by now there's something to be missed

you non chalantly spin your little drill
you watch, impassive, as the hull begins to fill
you shrug your shoulders, mutter, "come what will."
and comment that my pleas are getting shrill

i think i saw it flicker cross your eyes
that twinge of fear that means you realize
that this is what it's like when something dies
this is how it goes when no one tries