died young.
who’s to say it won’t happen to me?

they say change isn’t a bad thing
though it feels like a woodland monster
grabbing my arms and tying them together
in knots
i can breathe, but it’s heavy and uncontrollable

and you’re not even eighteen
yet
you feel so different
as a person
as a human
 as a creature
as a
i can’t even finish the sentence
cause i can’t describe you
help.

he was cornered
and alive on the highway
seeing signs become distant items in the desert sand
maybe his friends cried after hearing of his death
i don’t doubt it
cause he was so young
yet so permanently engraved in their minds

she is caught up in the tide of fake love
that comes around and swallows you whole
and then leaves you to cry on the floor
a waste of a few months
of cursing someone’s name
and
taking the blame
until suddenly you realize nobody loves you
as you are

and the moon she swells
with unhappiness
as the tides change
and you do as
well.
you think it is a good thing
yet it makes you insane
like a drunk driver upon the road
who is racing like a thunderbird

he will hit you, head-on collision
the brakes slamming hard,
but no use
and you’ll die as young as he was
did you know the gasoline would be your noose?

almost unrecognizable
almost delirium
almost a 180 change of perspective
you will dazzle in your movies
that’ll last for a couple years
until the camera gets too harsh and you beg it to stop
with your remaining adolescent brain
and your misunderstanding of things
so easy to comprehend,
you will get in your car,
tears on the steering wheel
speeding on the empty highway
you will lose your sense of direction
someone won’t notice your light
and you’ll be gone into the night.

don’t plead and cry now
this love is temporary,
you know it too.
don’t pretend that he loves you,
it’s not you that he sees,
it’s the opportunity for him to get attention
yet you’re naïve like every teenage girl ever
so stuck in your chic flics
you didn’t even notice,
him running away with your pride.

future is coming
future is coming
future is ****** and brutal
future is coming
it must be sad, trying to be melodramatic
all the time because you think you have to

you never know, the car could appear to be going slow
but you never know
how fast things can change in an instant
i hope you don’t lose yourself in the smoke
in the exhaust from the engine
i hope you know there’s more than one way to grow
don’t lose yourself under the influence
with a boy who’s dated all of the friends that you have

change is a strange
thing
deep and
consuming
i know you’re no james dean
pretending on a screen
so don’t become a chameleon  
unrecognizable,
they once said change is good,
but i’m doubting their answer
what’s your hope for the future?