Feels like Dying

it feels like I'm dying.

The clouds strung across the mountains look a little better

and the rain doesn't feel as cold because the long route home sounds like a good idea.

You would know.
You're dying too.
But to die, is to live.
And to live, is to die.

And I think we all need to learn how to live.
because on Sunday mornings we only care about the ones who are already gone.
We still care, but only when it's too late.

High School has always been a morgue,
it's where we learn to romanticize with death,
Dancing with it's kiss on our lips.
They taught us how to die, but not how to live.
They told us to notice death, not life.

But, we're different.
We use death to live.
Death is used to hold us, but we must learn to let it mold us.
A tool to form our still delicate lives.
Death's name has always burned the inside of our throats,
but not anymore.

If you're afraid to die,
you must be afraid to live.

it feels like I'm dying.
And that feels like living.