What doesn’t kill you, just won’t kill you,
cannot kill you for awhile.
You’re alive behind the rotting of your soul and of your smile.
The blood inside your heart is rendered stale and out of breath,
The muscles at the corners of your mouth have no strength left.
Witty words choke in your throat, and every crutch is gone,
But wait, you get to learn from this, another life lesson!
With another slimy lesson in the slurry of your gut,
Whatever doesn’t kill you makes this existence a rough one.

Luciana, 34