Rhetorics

Written by: Kelly Greer

Breathing drawn, it’s cold as glass, 
moonlight muffled; curtains cast, 
eggshells fashioned out of ash, 
crack them, this could be my last 
walk inside the thin white line, 
chance to choose to live or die, 
answer all my questions why; 
'cause if they’re not crazy, 
then what am I?