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.