But hearing red

Barely breathing
Not yet dead

Off all fours, getting up from concrete floors
Resisting anything but truth fiction

See, rhetoric spit with such defined convictions
Can only be honestly considered misconstrued diction

If you wield weapons, you really aught to tighten the grip
On your sweating tongues slip decision
I’m on my way, soon in your face
Can you taste this yet?

Everyone is lost until they’re found
Everyone shares each breath inhaling
Everyone bleeds blue blood exhaling

I’m beat
But I’m not out

I’m getting up again
Right here off this ground

I may be blind but I ain’t dumb

You see colors?
I see sound

– Jason Brain, 2013