I'm going to try to write a poem,

but I'm not sure how it will go. 

Every porous, every single gaping abyss; hope it flows. 

I'm perched atop death row. 

I hear the songs of crows. 

I want to say the words "I Love You" to everyone that I have known. 

The top will surely blow. 

The dark side; it'll show.

This earth doesn't have a fucking clue what will soon unfold. 

I can't do this alone, 

For I lack a pure soul. 

If life was sure to cease tonight, what standards would I hold?