A little ache rings in my chest,
Every time I open my eyes
To see the world around me.
And for every extra breath I take,
It hurts a little more.

A little voice nags in my mind,
Tugging at loose ends.
I try to find the strength within,
But with each minute that yields more pain,
It nags a bit some more.

A coat of painted trust thrust around my soul
Chips away discreetly.
And for every time I speak with Death,
Each moment delved in pity,
The paints chip away some more.

An outstretched hand flickers on the shores,
Offering light to my dark island.
But it's so far and faint,
And for each time I reach for it,
It fades away some more.

A figure stares through cool, cracked glass;
She watches through a slide of crystal.
And for every time I wonder who's more real,
She cracks a little more.