This is a story about two boys
The taller one has a gun tucked into his waistband
And thinks the bullets are meant for him
The older one has a record player in his head
He sings along to the same five songs
They know each other
Down to the color of blood
And the sound of bones breaking
But they are strangers
The one with the gun keeps forgetting the words
And the boy with the music Won't let him shoot

To be born
your body made a pact with death
And from that moment all it tries to do is cheat

if you spend too much time inside your head
you will never get
to experience
the beauty of this world.
this world is right here
may as well use it

I’m not fragile
I’ve just been broken
So many times before
That the glue is unable to hold.
I’m not fragile, am i?

Her tears were seen as aesthetic
They were picture deserving
But never hug worthy