Seventeen
Its the dead of night,
were lying in the grass
the stars glimmer down
the light of a lit cigarette dangles above
coils of smoke drift above his head
i'm laying apart from him
every word that comes from his mouth drips with agony
"if this is good as its gonna get,
lets just leave now"
the thoughts in my head,
they shake from side to side
"i'm dying" i say,
he looks at me, another drag from his cigarette
"aren't we all" he says
"every second that passes,
is a second closer to dying"
and this is what kills me.
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