If you were told

To make a list of your top ten favorite people

And then, by order of whatever powers that be, that list is killed off, one at a time…

1. Today 2. Two years later 3. Four years later 4. One year later 5. Six months later 6. Two years later 7. Six months later 8. Two years later 9. Two months later 10. Three years later

How fucking sane would you be?

Just how well would you hold your shit together?

Would you be given any leeway on just how much bullshit you would be expected to handle?

Would you appreciate the survivors at least a little more?

Or would you be mad at the world, kicking rocks at anyone who came near your bubble?

Would you think you were cursed?

Would you question karma?

Would you give up?

When you’re the last man standing, would you keep standing?

Or would you sit the fuck down?

I’ll save a seat for you, over here on my survivor’s bench, if you get tired.

Because, me, myself, I am fucking tired.

I’m going to sit a spell.

Catch the breeze in my hands.

Feel the sun on my face.

Breathe.

I may or may not stand up again.

But I am fucking done with lists.