Please tell me where to look, so that I may see. Please tell me when to speak, so that I may breathe. Please help me stay alive, keep the light in my eye. Please tell me where to lay, so that I may die. The tubes that feed me and keep me alive have birthed a cancer into my chest that will never be fucking satisfied. This is not a drill. This is not a fucking joke. The vultures are circling in and the desert sun has started to make me choke. I'm dying of thirst but I fear that the rains will wash me away. I'm stuck between the abyss of "forgotten" and the putrid stench of decay. Whatever you do, don't try to save me. I'm not worth the time. I don't know if I'm worth anything at all. Turn the dagger. This is your last chance.