i am jack's wasted life

i don't know what any of this means.

i think about killing myself like i think about killing time. 

i'm so selfish to think that i wanna die

when you lay there slowly dying

right in front of my eyes. 

you deserve a better set of hands

to carry on what you've left behind.

( i am jack's broken TV screen) 

i'm a car crash waiting to happen

my veins are pumping battery acid

that tastes like the mountain of pills you swallow

twice daily.

they'll kill you better they make you any better.

( i am jack's medicine cabinet) 

they said 7 years at least but i'm still writing

this half-assed letter to lift

some weight off of my shoulders 

that'll probably end up tied to your feet

when you try to reach out and touch heaven. 

( i am jack's severed libido) 

maybe i care a little too much but my heart always 

ends up washed out on the concrete.

while yours is smashed in the backseat

of that breathless Saturn you used to drive. 

but our bodies are still alive

like those little gods that detox

at twenty five.

( i am jack's distorted self image)

i'll drive the car when your head stops making sense

i'll be the cigarette you can't smoke 

i'll keep saying your name in present tense

and i'll be the final blow that makes you choke.

i love you like a headache that makes you feel.

i hate you like a dream that felt so real. 

( i am jack's wasted life) 

Author's Note

title + lines in parenthesis taken from/inspired by the movie Fight Club.