Or Maybe We Just Spent Our Whole Lives Dying

<p>Everyone dies. That's as level as the playing field is going to get. Nothing to do but outlive those who would try to oppress you. Nothing to wait for but the chance to dance on their graves. These are poems with which to map & document that wait. This is the fuel to help you power through to the end. Rage and humor; two sides of the same coin both equally vital to the equation of survival. The future is yours which is both a blessing and a curse. <span></span>Own it. Take these words with you. They want to be there at the end.</p>