She greets death with a curtsy.
You can hit me and push me but you can’t quite beat me.
I lay awake thinking about how none of it had to happen for me to get to this point; and how I’m glad I got there, anyway.
It’s just me and my mangled limbs your touch soothing but unconvincing singsong whispers of lives unlived.
And if you only opened the window you’d see the morning light seep through.
Hearts retch on homestretch where will we go?
I don’t believe in love at first sight; only now I realize that you did.