21 Questions

by Rachel Lynch in


I've heard that everybody dies, so I carve up my arm just prove I'm still alive. Too interested in consuming the manhattan around me, like I don't need food, so I've always got hunger pains and some friday's I rock baggy clothes to hide the fact I'm underweight. Some days I feel stuck, like nothing changes but the motherfucking date. I pray a broken hallelujah like a crash test dummy. It's funny to live in a world where the oxygen we breath corrodes our bodies and kills us. If I could hold my breath for eternity, then I'd live for ever and ever to deliver these words I speak.

"I can't do this anymore more Mom," sick of the cancer books on the table and the camera flash in my face. I hate my body, it's just a shell for my soul. And would you even cry? Could you move on with your life? Do you even have feelings on the inside? Cause I've seen nothing that resembles life in you, just a drive to do what you think you're here to do. Tonight, I'm feeling grand and poetic. Might take the Curt Cobain route and blow my fucking brains out. (There, I said it.) Sometimes I need to talk to someone, but I'm just not sure who. That feeling of the morning after and the sunrise blues. I can't write about his sickness, I've been numb for too long. Waiting for the music to stop in this game of emergency room musical chairs, I just want to sit down but the song keeps playing. One of these days you're gonna shut your eyes forever, and I'm gonna have to find something else to breath for in this life. And as much as I wish I got along better with my mother, don't you think that there's a reason why? Some days, I don't feel like asking so many questions. I'm happy with my heartbeats and your texts. Like, "Good morning, I wish I was there to throw rock solid scones from the balcony of the Ritz Carlton with you."  One day we'll be healthy and it won't be so bad. Maybe that day is today, sick is just a mindset anyway. All I know is that someday... I'm going to make you proud.

6 million ways to die, I choose none. 6 billion people to love I choose one.

photo by nettie harris