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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I've made promises to survive before To those I'd never see again To those who couldn't keep it themselves To those who don't know I exist And here I am on the other side of 27 Having known the taste of gunmetal Having felt the sting of overdose Having gravity's cold embrace weigh me down And it's nothing special There was no celebration, no confetti No one to play me off as the credits rolled Things didn't get any easier And yet, here I am. Is it something to be proud of? Was it simply being too lazy to die? Less a desire to live and more a fear to die? What was it that pushed me forward? Love? Don't be silly. Desire? I was willing to lose it all at points. Pride? I understand it means nothing. Pretentiousness? I haven't done enough to merit joining that club. Half a year later, I don't have an answer. A path forward perhaps, but no answer. A lifetime ago, people danced to my tune And I built a profession based on those skills A decade later and that city's in ruins With nothing behind me but salt and ash With a Porcupine's Curse, I can't take the easy way I don't want them even if they wanted me I chose solitude assuming I wouldn't have to live with it long But what choice do I have but to commit now? 28 is a higher number than I expected to experience But so was 27. 22. 16. But hit with the long plague, 60 seems like a dazzlingly high cap With a wounded heart from the jump? Maybe 50's optimistic. And in the womb I'll build for myself I'll be stillborn when they find me again Join the club? Sorry, I've gotta get home and do nothing all night again And thus did 27 pass despite their best efforts Come 29, I'll be an unstoppable god beset by nonbelievers With a dead universe behind me and a handful of soil to my name.
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