the acrid taste in my mouth
the tingling in my right arm;
reminders that I’m still here…
reminders that I do exist…
sometimes it really doesn’t feel like
sometimes I’d rather it not be true
but it is, and I am here.
and honestly, it feels good to be alive…
stand clear of the doors
because they are closing
the way my heart does:
quickly and without warning.
shutting out any and everybody
still out on the other side while
holding hostage every and anyone
still trapped inside of my chest.
I think it’d be best
if you made the decision.
knowing me, you would be
split by my indecision.
because my decisions are final.
until they’re not, in which case,
I don’t know what to tell you,
except for the fact that I’ve already told you
this is how I am.