My mother once threatened me by saying she would cut off all of my hair like I guess she knows what my weakness is
and I think I’m like that biblical story about Sampson
All the strength is gone if I lose my hair

I wish I could tell her all the reasons I ever lied
but I can’t anymore so to my sisters: may the bridges I burn light the way

in 8 months I’ll be officially gone so just keep that as a little reminder
to be good you don’t ever want to end up like me

I spend my days with my head in my hands

and ever since I was little I’ve known I would die at 27
and I tell everyone I get close to
and they always look at me like I’m standing on
the edge of a building when I whisper this and maybe I am

and there’s a white lighter in my pocket for my autopsy
just like Kurt Cobain and Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix

but maybe all I really want is someone to save me before I happen to fall

I feel like I've been in air tumbling to pavement for years
and somewhere in this time I've caught fire

So now I wonder if I'll burn out or break all my bones first
And if I'm being honest it doesn't really matter to me anymore