My soul was so bright
now my face is pastel
Everything turns fuzzy
and I’m unwell

Hard teeth crack
on harder truth

Lungs’ branches
grow flowers of cancer
just hit with the answer
to how I’m gonna die

Run outside
Start to drive
Try not to cry
Reach for my smokes

And stop

Been busy filling lungs with tar
to match my heart
slow down this beat a bit
until I’ve beaten it
Now I’m beating fists
against my head as I
hold the dread
in my very hand
contraband
and I’m sick

I’ve never really looked
the same at flowers
I count their falling petals
like I count the hours


~kb