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Dec 2013
we worry of
death
and dying like they
are the same thing,
one
is nothingness,
a phone call never reached
a vacant lot and we are all
just one child finding comfort
in how the streetlight
flickers in rhythm
one
is defeat after
an ancestry of men evolved from
savages to creators
everything from
electrical currents to carouselΒ Β rides
one
is realizing
our only fight in life
is survival, and how we are all born
to fail
dying
is free falling
it's resistance
it's madness
dying is getting married
and having kids
and building a life over
white fences and yellow porches
--
I keep writing this poem because I have this imagery in my head that I will be in the back of some yellow taxi cab, texting you and some drunk driver will slam their car into mine.
and I fear,
the last thing you would ever hear from me is
"okay" or
"lol" or
"see ya"
Ana  Leejay
Written by
Ana Leejay  New York
(New York)   
725
   Ruby Cushla
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