when you're dead you will be survived by a total absence of surprise
by the wistful sighs and dejected shrugging of all the losers you were fucking
when you're dead your phone will still blow up all your friends still calling to buy drugs
1000000 unread messages asking where the afterparty is
it's yours
when you're dead you will be reunited with everyone you used to get high with
gathered together in a warm place indistinguishable from LA
when you're dead they will all be sorry
(about all those times you borrowed money)
about all of your unrealized dreams to go to school for cosmetology
it's yours
when you're dead they will toast your life at your friends' shitty DJ nights
no one will hear their speeches clearly they'll all just think it's someone's birthday
when you're dead the hardest hit will be the girls who aren't legal to drink
the months of grief they'll have to fight through so they can grow up to be just like you
it's yours
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