but you can’t choose when the last breath of warm air exits your body.
you can lie, motionless…
but your eyes still blink.
stare into space in hopes that your brain will just halt
yet the thoughts still produce
and thats when you can’t prevent the birth of your tears
the shaking of your palms
the tensing of your muscles
the itching in your throat
the pulsing of your brain
you don’t decide when it all shuts off
you just decide what to do until it does…