Dying is an art form.
Everyone dies, but I will do it
Gracefully, slowly, bit-by-bit.
I will kill off a little more of myself everyday
Until there is so little left
I will blow away in your memories.
I will perfect my empty heart in the symmetry
Of an empty body
And starve away the wickedness
Which calls me home.
But I will not fizzle out slowly.
I will blaze until the fire burns too brightly
For my eyes alone
And spreads like a raging fever across the
Valleys of my frame.
I will explode with the fury of
A thousand shattered mirrors
And consume until my heart races,
My blood boils, and
My death is celebrated as the beautiful tragedy my life deserved.
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"A brief bout with a razorblade cut me
I freaked out thinking people didn't love me
I watched closely as the you I knew forgot me"
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