Born to die
I've been struggling with ways to feel
Push it all out, keep it all in;
I need you when I wake up,
I'll always need someone to lean on
I've got papers past due,
emails unanswered,
frenzied writings
half-finished
and waiting
for my sanity or my patience,
whichever I find first.
The sink leaks, the pipes creak
nothing I've asked for has disappointed,
just left me with a longing feeling
right next to my smallest rib.
I would give anything to feel real again
and I suppose this is the half-way mark
(if it's not the final scene)
I'll be gone before the wind
blows me from your memory
I always thought I
was born to die.
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