I never meant to imply
we all survived: X
hanged himself at a Holiday
Inn. X swallowed a gun while
his parents took a long vacation.
We inhaled from pipes, took drugs
meant for animals, slipped off all
protection. Bared our backs
for beatings. Our worlds
were rooms filled with crystal
smoke, we chased our dread,
dragged it to bed, tired
of ghosts and god and parents,
each other. We laughed when someone
said we’re all brothers. Made jokes,
made profiles, invented the word
clean, pushed anyone
aside. Because we wanted to,
we died.