Musings on Life from a Dead Girl

Comfortable

This life is comfortable

It's like sleep on pain medication

It's like keeping the house clean while your husband works

It's like eating junk because it tastes good

But it's killing you

Those pills are addictive

And that man is abusive

That food is shit

But it's comfortable

It lolls you into a false sense of security that rapidly turns into complacency

And before you know it, you're gasping for breath

While life sits on your windpipe

But at first, it's easy

It's nice

It's safe

Safer than change

You don't know what's around the next bend

You could screw yourself

So, you don't move

You sit still

And slowly die

But that's okay

Because it's a nice kind of pain

Watching the world pass you by

It's bearable

It's a comfortable death.