to drink eighty bottles of wine.
It's hard to paint
the tumors hot pink,
to let all of the venom in the world
eat up your blood and sting your
It was so hard to feel my breath
and my bones turn to ashes
while I tried to look happy
to still be here.
In the violet hour before
it all begins again, I can hear
the other side calling so softly.
Like moths burning on a light bulb.
I'm so close- closing my eyes
is so goddamned easy.
But then they all come through
the door and I snap back to myself.
The weapons won't be laid down today.
Dying is much too easy.
Let's make Hell wish it could have me.