I feel as though I am cheating death,
And with every day I go on living,
Someone is dying
So I can save my soul for another day,
Another hour,
Another minute.
And I don’t know why this happens,
Just that the guilt of my salvation
Hangs on their death
Like drool from a beast’s tongue.
The bitter drool pumps through my veins
And pounds in my brain, which wonders
Why not me?
Why do I deserve to go on while others stop?
Stop.
It’s not their choice, and I can’t stop it.
I can only feel the guilt
Because my salvation is only saved in life,
And I want to cheat death.
