i often think of death at the hands of Galileo a cluster of galaxies pouring through his fingernails and weaving his way like a silk ribbon in the midst of a cotton dress
camouflage designed to keep you hidden from the enemy across the cliff but you can't hide from the other side because the other side is inside of you and they have their weapons pointed directly at your weak chains
a galaxy formed inside of you a white dwarf star that collects energy over decades pressed together into mere seconds and it spills over the edges like spilt wine on linen sheets
i've thought of death at countless midnights in the middle of hallways in your arms swaddled in the equivalent of a human burrito at the mere peek of your face out of the corner of my eye in a place where there is no forgiveness
they always directed me to one place it was a safe haven of sorts they took a mirage of an ocean far away and on bad days, implanted in the comfort of your solitude
on most days, i fought silently and alone on bad days, i fought against something vicious but alone
i've thought of killing myself countless times but the fools hope always brought me back and i learned to bury my anxieties so only my most trusted comrades knew the different between a shaky 'I'm fine' and a shakier 'just tired'
it was like a ticket stub, for a movie that wasn't even all that great but you went anyway because you wanted a distraction