the jets fail in midair. cue the explosion. it's raining blood and guts on the launchpad, and that umbrella smile isn't going to do much now.

the rocketship of my life, baby.

my head is a jigsaw puzzle, but there's pieces missing and it doesn't look much like the picture on the box. "contents: one normal, healthy teenage girl" turns into "optional baggage, emotional weightlessness, unsharpened knives, and a toss of the dice included!".

i'm drunk off of my own self-worthlessness. swimming in my head. the dead man's crawl to shore with sand in my eyes and a fire in my lungs. drowning. breathless. fuck, i'm sorry mom, i just couldn't do it. fuck, i'm sorry dad, i don't know if i can take any more of this. oh god, i'm going to crash and there's nothing anyone can do about it. water fills up my lungs. there's nothing in sight and the verdict is in - survival rate is slim. and the pressure - dear god, the pressure - my body would collapse if it wasn't so full of bullshit and apologies. jesus christ, my skin is tearing, stretching out until i can see my veins, my bones, my lungs, the water sloshing around and trying to kill me. and ironically, this reminds me how goddamn thirsty i am. i laugh until i cry, and there's seawater in my eyes. water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.
and i realize how ridiculous this is, because i am about to die and all i can think of is a stupid fucking cliche that no one understands anyways. haha. i begin to laugh again. a cliche for every occaision, and we've come full circle.

i'm so fucking sorry for throwing this on you.