As I bleed out, I think
how this act changes things,
I've martyred myself to those who loved me
and proven my insignificance, unworth and stupidity to any detractor
they'll smile and smirk, “it's just evolution at work”
as I bleed out, I worry
what will remain, what is my legacy
in my wake, these things I write will take on poignancy
my words will titillate with a sense of missed urgency
published they will provide, an immortality critics can't deride
as I fade out, I wonder
what dark secrets you may find
hidden in boxes and drawers or password protected on my hard drive
the evidences of fetishes and long hidden addiction
but I trust, upon review, you'll choose to keep it, the final secret between we two:
and in this end, I find regret.
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