about death

i'm always falling short of what i'm capable of
the door slams
the wind howls
and i'm stuck inside cowering

the corner of despair where a boy smiles kindly at me
i always lower my eyes
to the denim on my knees
to my restless palms
to my heart, politely asking its opinion - should i

too late now
everything is overdue
my assignments
my chance to say something
the opportunity i had to give 'em the ol' razzle-dazzle

why are you so afraid

i skipped the tutorial
and now i expect people to stop what they're doing and explain
i'm so lost, clicking buttons just to see what they do
there's not enough time to live life the way i do
the grave has been calling for us from the second we were born

dirt and a tombstone
i don't want my eulogy to be a lie