Outer Space and Slam Poetry | Phan

Outer Space and Slam Poetry | Phan

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Even in one of the busiest cities in the world, no one would hear him scream, no one would even make note of his existence. But at three in the morning, in the streets of New York, a complete stranger embraced Dan in a hug, pulling him tighter as he cried, and somehow found a way to repair his heart.
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#85
danxphil
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I can't breathe. It's the pills, I know it. And this time, he won't save me. He won't even notice until they announce my pitiful death to the school. But, who'd even care enough to speak my name? Who'd care enough to listen? He's too happy. Too pure. Shit. There's the dots. "Goodbye, Phil..." as his name rolled off my tongue for the last time, I smiled. I'd be free soon.

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