I sit at the edge of my window
In this broken home with broken people
With my ink and this tear-stained notebook
Full to the brim with fragments of a dying girl.

I create a universe in which my happiness
is not as nonexistent as the cure to cancer
I will write a different life into existence,

One where this flesh doesn't feel like a prison
and my own soul doesn’t feel like a forgotten memory;
A ghost of something that was,
That probably still could be.

and in that life,
I shall exist forever
away from you
and them
out of this body
out of this world.