When you draw your gun, think first. Shoot anyway.
When you become the people you hurt to keep from hurting anyone else, you’ve failed.
But that’s not new to you, is it, sweetheart?
You’re sitting alone and you’re hungry, and you listen to the way your stomach clenches around itself
like it’s trying to salvage something that isn’t there.
It isn’t there. The things in your life that you love
are few and far between and while you’re in the land of much
and close together,
nothing matters anymore.
Let your head hurt. Let your stomach growl.
Once upon a time you were going to be something.
You ran away to the woods and thought, This
is a good place to become. You unraveled instead.
They’ll find you in the scum under the bridge. You freeze in the winter.
When their feet slip over you,
don’t pretend you’re holding back your laughter.
Crack under pressure.
When your stomach growls,
pretend it’s a roar.
Pretend it’s a battle cry. Pretend
you have something worth fighting for
and something inside you left to fight.
When your enemy kills you, laugh
to the beat of the pulse in your temples.
Look into your own eyes like a lover’s,
like they belong to the people who ripped you apart.
And they do, honey. They do.
You are your own worst enemy.
Surrender without fuss.
When your own back is turned,
take the poison.
The only honor you’ve got
is in the way you’re giving