don't be afraid you're already dead

for he was not lucky enough for the train to take the other track
the pills were not vitamin C
the gun did not shoot water
and it was not, instead of him, me.

we are no longer the kids with capes crinkled in knots around our necks
but in their place are the rope burns of our selfish regrets

only attempting to rid myself of the crushing weight of confused sorrow
the dreams in my head have fallen to the floor
he placed his in patterns there

searching for adjectives inside a dictionary
where only nouns are found
lonely, the adjective being
the one word to describe this
is trapped in the moldy basement of a frat house

he taps at the window
sliding through its confinements
back where he was days ago
a silhouette of the clock

plucking at your hairs
chickens clucking that their scared
they keep changing this cyclorama
but it's always ripped and torn

walking into the abyss
singing his cares away
thinking himself sick
will we feel like this for the rest of our lives?

who owns this beating heart,
it seems to have been misplaced

you'd written horror stories on the sides of elementary schools
superfluous thoughts were rays of sunshine
that only cast shadows in your head

don't be afraid you're still alive