Science: mostly

Maybe I shouldn’t talk to you when I’m dying.

But if I don’t talk to you, I’ll die.

Of course…. you put this death in my heart.

This pain. This shiny medal… This love.

You bastard.

how we raised her.

it's hard to explain
the desire to walk straight into traffic
when all you remember from that moment
are images.
Stumbling down a stairwell
half dressed
in a whirl of disgust
not quite going to be sick
but something is growing
at the back of her mind.
Only keeping the ability to fly
so that she can escape.
she was survival.
she was movement.
she was forward.
Until, she was nothing.

opening the door
she found the world
(was numb)
it no longer recognized her
and she broke
More images
of street corners
and passing cops
and a blazzing sign reading
"Hell hath caught thee"
With out feeling: she sobbed
On the concrete
on the last cloud
in the smoke
She only felt it when she called for help
and felt it when she replaced her smile
something important was gone
some will
some desire
the survival.

later the words haunted her
simple words
"just like everyone else"
just normal
just average
perhaps she should have found comfort
they could have meant it
but it felt more like shame
and more like a loss
and more like the end

she woke up and realized she'd survived
and despair set in