i wrote this on the day i thought i was going to die.

today i thought i was going to die and was so pissed that god would let me die on a campus i hate in a program i despise. I always saw myself going out in the thick of my happiness.

my school reported an active shooter on campus and i was afraid i was going to spend my last minutes with strangers i didn’t know. strangers who were white. oh my god, imagine. the complete antithesis of my life’s work sitting in that room with me.

thankfully it was a hoax so all of those “i love yous” sent out felt bitter as fuck when layered with “false alarm” messages. like i think about my last words to people a lot and i spent a lot of time making sure i said the right things, words that conveyed my love without freaking them out too much.

death is such a performance.

i tried to pray because my mom told me to but knew i was lying to myself because my spiritual pathway to god has suffered a series of blockages lately. i kept saying “god got me” in my messages but honestly so much of it was me telling myself “don’t you dare die without becoming the poet you want to be. don’t you dare die without birthing the baby you want to birth. don’t leave anyone behind. will yourself alive.”

i feel fucked up and paranoid and almost cried on the way to the laundry room. being shot to death is absolutely my biggest fear and i spent hours thinking it would become a reality today.

i joke a lot about the world ending but none us deserve to share space with each other. some of us get off scaring people into their last words to loved ones. some of us are scared into our last words to love ones and wonder how to recover from that. its like magnets pulling apart, the world. it wants to come undone so bad but we keep trying to force it back together.

i’m gonna go have a bowl and maybe cry into andrew’s chest if he lets me.

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