a conversation (monologue)
with two who’ve been there, done that:
papa says study hard then next time be lawyer, earn big money
mama says don’t anyhow think you’re in love, also boys are liars

accompanied with hard stares and very serious faces:
we know you’re sensible, girl,
we know you know we know best
we only want what’s best for you.

inwardly, I grumble what about what I want?
too bad I don’t quite know either;
you see, I’m a bit of a jumbled mess now,
mixed up with what I want and you want for me.

maybe it’s better if a giant wave
washes everything away
on the twenty-first, as predicted,
it would be a pretty easy way to go.

but i’m too afraid to die,
but too afraid to live. or rather,
i’m too afraid of dying to want to die,
and too afraid of dying to dare to live anyway.