fucking angsty kaisoo. WHY.
there is so much to being
seemingly alive.
i am breathing, my heart is beating.
i have a pulse.
what separates me from
well,
you,
is that i am dead.
i have drugged myself with
substances, and memories,
and goodbyes, and cookies.
but i can not die.
i am still alive, even after
looking down the barrel of a pistol. or what
i call sunrise, set, no rise. a tempest of sorts?
even after swallowing tiny capsules of powdered dreams.
but i can not swallow pills.
i tried stepping over the
glass edge of a really
tall tower, a really,
really tall one.
but it was only just a curb.
i can not die.
i can not drown either.
i have tried. drowning that is.
in liquid fire, alcohol. tears,
and pools of pain.
have yet to try water. maybe.
but i am dead.
i am a walking, talking paradox.
a fucking paradox.
i want to end with
an exclamation, rather not
with a question or full stop.
maybe even a dash. yes,
i would like that. a dash.
i will end up dead.
try to survive.
what. when.
but i am dead.
but i can't die.
i am just so lonely.
hungry.
in pain too. i ran.
i just can not keep track.
track of the breaths i take.
there is just too much.
much to be said about the living.
but i --
shit that was a long one. sorry.
jinnie.