death should become us

it's easier to just give up
to run forward into the arms
of not-now and not-you and not-us
to have it hold tighter and tighter and tighter
until lungs are punctured
by shivers of ribs
and shattering hearts
a house of cards of wasted possibilities
dull and constant like an acid burn
our mutilated would-be futures

I promise you, it's easier to choose all this
over destroying ourselves
trying to patch over the hairline fractures in our accidental tragedy

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