Trigger warnings for: Suicide / suicide ideation, alcohol, self harm. || PART 2.
Pronouns been changed to be neutral: grammar may differentiate from the poems in the book because of this. Change them to fit what you need to if you must.
The best way to get to heaven is to take it with you.
Heaven isnāt a place, itās a feeling.
In many languages, the word for heaven is the same as the word for sky.
I hope the exit is joyful and I hope never to return.
I will not cry though I will want to cry.
Though I will hate myself for not crying.
When my ā dies, if I am still alive, I will slouch on my knees as though in prayer.
I will write one or two poems, then I will no longer think of her.
How miraculous that we all keep our shit together.
I want to watch the horizon as it gets farther away.
How miraculous that I can go basically anywhere.
BALLAD OF THE BRUISED LUNG
Many things happen in your life that shouldnāt.
I love you but I canāt keep letting you show up where I am and remind me of what I said to you all those times.
I was drunk that one time.
You are like a comet: every so often you come around to fuck up my shit.
When youāre dumb enough for long enough, youāre gonna meet someone too smart to love you and theyāre going to love you anyway, and itās gonna go so poorly.
To say I hate you would imply a world in which I kissed more than your stomach.
Look, weāve established that Iām a jerk.
Thatās not the kind of story Iām telling here.
Iām so lucky we all lived through what we were to become who we are.
Home is wherever people know our stories.
The worst lie is to say good-bye.
Where are you going that I wonāt follow?
I think it might be them, come to get me.
You will want to kill yourself but you wonāt.
You no longer think of suicide as a house you will build one day.
You need to feel vulnerable in front of anyone else.
They filled something in you thatās still full, even though theyāre gone.
OUR NUMBERED DAYS PT. III + IV.
You never give away your heart; you lend it from time to time. If it were not so, how could we take it back without asking?
So maybe love is a form of crying.
I have been wondering mostly, if love and sanity are the same thing.
When I say I am in love I am also saying the world makes sense to me right now.
I know that love is not the same as knowing everything, but because they are gone, because about her there are unknowns that will now remain unknowable.
Though they couldnāt name it, their favorite color is bakelite seafoam green.
They loved me once, though it wasnāt for very long, though it was distracted, though it shouldnāt have happenedā once, they loved me.
The you and me I have made you and me in my head.
There is never enough time.