I.
I’m coughing up colours of pink and purple
what a beauty they seem to be.
I’m trying to teach myself to dream,
but when I get to sleep all I’m aware of is you.

II.
Your cocaine overdose was the worst night of my life.
I smoked two packs of cigarettes that night,
even though I had quit smoking months before.
I couldn’t stop staring at what once was your body,

now lying lifelessly.

You were the only person I knew that wasn’t as shallow as a shower.

III.
You were drug-wrecked and had candy pills for breakfast.
It’s no wonder you died.
I just wish you had done more with your life

than die at 16.