Text: The Fair Weathered. Can You imagine?.

I don't want to be close enough to death to be saved. I'm wishing on life supports and relying on lucky stars. I can hold my breath and I count each one that I take. I'm safe, I'm sound, and I am sorry for the ground constantly crumbling under my feet. When I'm down, I'm out, and I don't want to be around all the negativity that I finally drowned out. I'm a stranger to all of my old friends, but I'm not counted as a loss yet. I want to live long enough to be truly loved. I treat wishes like they are never enough. I hate to think that my jealousy finally caught up with me. I'm safe, I'm sound, I'm sorry.