Pull my heart from my chest
and set it on the table,
cold and withered.
I do not bleed anymore.
No more pretty murals splattered on the ceiling.
No more portraits on the walls.
No more scrawling on the floor
as my body shakes one last time
and ceases.
I am still as stone.
Death is all i offer, but
i give it freely,
for Finality has no price.