"the weight of glass"
it was a long shot philosophy
not that anything
can save anyone
why try?
because there is boredom
and there is bitterness
and suicide isn’t so simple
it is its own god
a beautiful nurse, or a muse
or a delusional blustery frog
there we were, it was cold
we were outside, smoking
and i looked at you like
you would live forever, like
nothing but me should touch you, forever
it’s just that if
suicide doesn’t get me, you’ll
die before me, probably
i ignore the world, i ignore
the chill, the thrill, the call
in my heads is a pregnant deity, i
am just so much wasted potential
if you see words
they were words, but also
something else, but probably nothing
it’s all nothing, really
we’ll shoulder our collapse, we’ll be ready
