It kills me, so kindly,
The demands of my second-closest friends.

To join them in chasing joy—

No, not joy.
An addiction to excitement,
A slow erosion of discipline.

It promises everything I don’t want,
But they want it—

And I want them.

It kills me, so kindly,
Tearing between what and who I love.
Who I am and what they want me to be.

Love me, but don’t bind me.
Inspire me to change, but don’t make me.

You **** me, so kindly,
But regardless of the method,
I am still dead.