//An eulogy for myself because you will never write one//

You’re crying right now.

You’re crying because you didn’t believe me

When I told you that I couldn’t breathe anymore.

You’re crying because you didn’t start running

With the phone pressed to your ear

And kept running until you started leaving 

Bloodstained footmarks on the 3 AM streets

To mark your attempts at saving me.

There’s only so far a person can run

Before the flesh starts peeling away from the bones

And floods everything in a sea of red.

And honey, you never learnt how to swim.

But it’s okay.

You’d have been too late anyway.

Lack of oxygen takes only six minutes to kill a person,

And I lived a light-year away.

You couldn’t have saved me 

Even if you ran at the speed of light.

You’re crying because you couldn’t save me.


I didn’t want you to.

I wasn’t born to be saved, honey.

I was born to cause forest fires,

Flood every corner of every house that I ever lived in,

Destroy every person that I ever visited.

Honey, I was a disaster 

Born to leave destruction in my wake,

And I did.

Numbers won’t let you calculate 

The damage caused by my death.

You cannot collect all the tears in a beaker, Measure the volume

And multiply it by 6.022 x 10^23 

To find out how much pain I’ve passed on 

To the people I have left behind.

Honey, you cannot measure pain on a scale.

Do not try.
I do not know if this ended up

Sounding more like a suicide note

Than an eulogy,

But I swear I didn’t kill myself.

I just decided to stop breathing,

Refused to let oxygen flood my lungs

And pump through my arteries.

Refused to stay alive.

Do not cry because you couldn’t build me a home

Out of all the love that you had,

Because I wouldn’t have stayed anyway.

I wasn’t born to stay, honey.

I was born to fly,

To break away every shackle that ever tried

To stop me from running away,

To never let the word home

Conjure an image every time I closed my eyes.

But now, after spending all my life like a nomad,

I have finally found a home that I do not want to leave.

Honey, death feels like homecoming.


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