do you think the dead envy the living
do you think they lust over the chaotic fury of youth

cause right now i am lost
twenty-one and young
drinking and crying
through snapchat filters
and "emerald exhales"
through the books on my ikea shelf
which highlight the glorious escapades
of some protagonist I can't relate to

do you think the dead envy me
as my heart breaks at the thought of a boy
who never even knew my name
when I get parking tickets or
cut my knee on gravel outside my apartment
and lie to my family saying no- I was sober.

do the dead envy the living
at their most irresponsible
their most reckless
and their most messy

am I still coveted and loved at my worst
for the simple fact That I Am Alive?