I Am living outside of the prescribed time limit,
That society had set for me.
"Sad but true!" they said on the streets,
As the slit-wrist girl walked by.
They might say that it was sad but the truth is that they savoured it,
As if it was some kind of reward,
A new piece of gossip for them to distort into public torture,
Isolation sets like ice-solation.
"Oh, is she still alive, or has she finally cut deep enough?"
I am living outside of a prescribed time limit,
As if life was one long marathon,
With a time-limit that blurs and drags on infinitely,
Numerals etched in gravestones,
Set the timing,
While you all watch me kill myself,
Though it has less impact on you than a character dying,
In a book or graphic game,
Time runs low like medication,
Do you care?
Didn't think so.