Maybe Before You Die, It's Your Ghosts

And There It Is: Even Though We’re Standing In The Same Patch Of Sun-drenched Pavement, We Might As Well Be A Hundred Thousand Miles Apart.

They Didn’t Get Me, I Should Have Said. They Saved Me.

Things Change After You Die, Though, I Guess Because Dying Is The Loneliest Thing You Can Do.

You Have To Understand. I Wasn't Just Thinking Of Me. I Was Thinking Of Her, Too.

I Want To Be Healed And Whole And Perfect Again, Like A Misshapen Slab Of Iron That Comes Out Of The Fire Glowing, Glittering, Razor-sharp.