Paying Rent

I’m still in the land of the living
becomes the all too frequent assurance
of a friend lost and a friend regained

My stomach knots itself
into a shape so tight and unknown
that not even a Rubik’s cube
is more daunting and tumbled

I’m still in the land of the living
becomes the glaring banner in our skies,
speaking of failure and refusals

My heart beats out and out,
a constant rhythm that threatens
to cut off my breath and tears,
threatens to strangle my hope

I’m still in the land of the living
becomes the stalemate in battles of will,
of friendship sans responsibility

My life is on a perpetual repeat
and you are the one event
that has the strength to trample
down my modus opperendi

I’m still in the land of the living
becomes the cue to make sure you know all
of the things that make you so dear to me.