Moans written down

Burning Away

You always quoted Neil Young just like Kurt Cobain did in his suicide note moments before he blew his brains out. “Better to burn out than to fade away,” You’d say every time you did something reckless. You said that the first time you snorted lines of cocaine and the first time you stuck a needle in your arm. It was experimenting you’d say, just wondering how it feels. Well, you found out and kept going back for more.

It became a motto in your life. All you did was all-out, no holds-barreled and explosive. You fucked like every second was your last and you drank like your lips will never taste alcohol again. There was a magnetic force surrounding a woman like you and I was dragged in, kicking and screaming. Once inside I never wanted to go. Between the fucking, the drugs and the drink you had more aces up your sleeve than a regular gambler. Impeccable taste in music, literature, movies and anything else you can come up with. The memories of those moments of pure bliss when the smack was in our blood still linger every time I go to sleep. Nothing really mattered but us.

You can only live by a motto long enough before it takes over all aspects of your life. We burned out. All that stuff we were doing pushed us in different directions. You always wanted more, finding a way to get in deeper. I wanted out, as far away from it all. An unsuccessful overdose later and a dozen of fights we exploded like a supernova. Everything that burns bright, strong and hard burns out with a bang.

We didn’t get a chance to fade away, settle down. You weren’t the type. When the second overdose didn’t kill you a shotgun to the head sped up the way. I still think of you from time to time, all the things you could have done. All the things we could have been and everything you could have accomplished.

Neil Young had it wrong. It’s not better to burn out. I’d much rather if we faded away together.