unafraid of the air on your ribs
equipped with sleight-of-hand,
bad aim, honesty, a snapshot of the abyss,
some empathy you dug out of middle school
because crazy is no stranger to you
and the smart ones are the best liars
when she can't distinguish your smile
from the truth, when she asked
if you heard the voices too.
and we all get nightmares.
even your best friend.
even me.
and no, it's not fair.
sometimes eight girls die and you don't know why.
so just think about the ones you saved.
close your eyes and believe.
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