They will write about you when you are gone.
Sluggish Poetry and Lazy Flung together words
about how often you forgot to tell yourself you were important.
They will remember the way you broke yourself on words
and carried yourself on one too many shots.
How you danced on tables and everyone could still see your demons.
How you dragged yourself out of bed on Sunday mornings to write about Saturday nights and beer stains and cigarette burns you couldn't remember getting.
And How different that stuff was to the time when you wrote about the revolutions in your mind.
You will not be able to call them LIARS.
You will not be able to say you were not trying to kill yourself all the 6 times you crashed your car.
Only the first.
And they will say R.I.P my best friend.
They will download your pictures and tag you.
They will say she was so loving deep inside and you will not be able to show them the monster that was eating at your insides and you will wonder who is this person they knew.
So write. Write about the deepest parts of you so no one else tells your story.
Note From Author:
A friend of mine recently passed away. His name was Thato Marumo. He made me laugh a lot and his hugs were dope. He mentioned considering copyright laws as something he might do for a dissertation a while back after someone copied my work of this blog and passed it off as their own. This isn't about him but the youth's method of mourning made its way here because it bothers me so much. R.I.P Worm.
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