I’m suspended between the moment,
I first tasted my tears.
And the last time I felt a warm breeze.
How is that fair?
The minutes always pass too fast,
leaving bullet holes filled with loose memories
And the songs I listened to at thirteen.
I can’t move forward,
Only backward—until I reach the end.
Take my days as quickly as you’d like,
But let me live them.
Stop reminding me
How little I could have left.