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Death Sentence
{"I convicted myself into a death sentence when it came to dote on, bear the witnesses because they saw me alleviate the tears nobody had reconciled or dared to wipe away; they simply did not.
The smoke is flaming inside of me, and it isn’t dwelling away or even sufficing. They replenish my lungs in exasperation as I flunk to inhale a tad bit of reinvigorated air.
You slaughtered me in a way nobody has. Whereas now they beg for the forgiveness of the broken. They measly take a stand and testify against it. I whisper to myself like a madman, for you shan’t be convicted of manslaughter, and I shan’t forgive you in any way probable.
Your actions don’t merit punishment behind bars,
you deserve death as I have reached my own demise a million times over; bear the burden I have felt, one that cannot slide open the portico and make a legitimate run for it. I let it in me, fused it, relived it.
I inhaled the smoke of a Cigar and let it ruin me all in all, then I testified against all odds;
‘It is what it is.’"}
Copyright ©
Dilara Aydin
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