On Survival/Off DeathSarah Bartlett
Dawn is a gun shot, but less humane. Tell yourself again each morning— the bed will never not be empty. Being dead is easier because it’s over— our therapists aren’t bullshitting. My father located his own crumbling bridge, and stands underneath, looks up. Waits for joints to break. Some of us don’t need to read the last page first: we try to get ready. We fail.
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