John Green
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It’s a metaphor, see?
You put the killing thing
Right between your teeth,
But you don’t give it the power
To do its killing.
But you don’t get to choose
If you get hurt in this world.
he lived the way it snows in mid-October
when the slivers of the moon float down from the clouds
into the transparent haze that we call the atmosphere
but the thing about October snow
Look at her eyesHow they glimmer and shineThe sun is settingYet still they sparkle in the light of the lime
In the deepest black of midnight
Shines a tiny pen light
As a tear-stained face strains
To read words that contain
A flood of emotion
