you're my favorite tragedy.

the breath fell from your lungs like rapid fire and the heaves of your chest became desperate pleas for help but souls escape quite easily, and i'm glad it wasn't too hard a battle. we saw the hyacinth lace across your face and travel to your ears and delicate fingers that curled like a porcelain doll's, and we all said "wake up, wake up, it isn't funny any more." but you didn't and that's okay.

you're still my favorite tragedy.


dedicated to my cousin, who died today at the age of 18. i loved you, even if i didn't act like it.

jan. 12. 09