The pennies on my eyes lay heavy. The copper is cold and the rough surface soothes my fragile skin that conceals my eyes. Conceals my life... my story.
This bed is comfy. It is built to comfort for eternity and surround my immobile limbs in fabric. Comfort surrounding my body... my legacy.
But this walnut enclosure has yet to be closed and my chest has yet to fall one last time. Yet, I lay concealed and surrounded by the creation of my mind's cravings. My suicidal intentions... my everlasting desires.
The pennies lay heavy on my soul, the walnut binding my being unto itself. The comfort does nothing to soften the crash of my hearse. Knocking hinges loose and my eyes free... my story now to be seen. Now to be... heard.