I.
What killed me the first time didn't necessarily **** me,
they tell you what doesn't bleed you out
makes you stronger, but sometimes it just
half kills you.

II.
How could seven lines of speed and two
or maybe three big red pills that made me feel so alive
and showed me stars with long arms that clung
to each other in the night,
how could they lie?

III.
Maybe I am dying.

IV.
So are you. I've been dying my whole life.
Every breath is one breath less,
every step leads to a closer step. What is inevitable
if not death? And yet each laborious inhale exhale
is magic.

V.
I know of the end, just choose not to acknowledge it,
won't ever look it square in the eye.
Don't wear my seatbelt. Cool kids don't die.

VI.
I admire the girls that don't put up with cheating
and I admire my friend who won't put up with her dad
because he's ****. But I'll never
be able to stick up for myself or keep myself
from crying when I've been let go of once again.

VII.
I heard a bean sidhes scream and it was death's
breath down my neck but I am not yet dead and
not yet
even
half dead.