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What is there to change

When all exhaustion bleeds out

But not the tar that drives it

How does the inner move forward

With that residue melting and pausing all within

I’d like to learn how to cut myself

From the inside out

And finally have that black debris

Bleed out it’s well-deserved exhaustion

But sometime’s I’m afraid

That the thickness of its body

Is the very foundation

On which my system runs

The duration of its time, however

Has been spent pooled

Only leaking faintly

And giving permission

For its host to keep living

But now the pool has trickled down

Through every curve and vein

It swallows me whole

On the surface I cut to bleed it out

But all that bleeds is my own exhaustion

I’m starting to worry

That I’ll have to accept its potential success

And my final, severe defeat

Only when I finally bleed so deep

That all that’s left is its residue and residence