The Sarcastic Nature of Time; Green Lemons

When I was seven

and fell down the stairs 

I wanted to die.

You were 13,

you told me to wait.

When I was 13

and hit by a car

I wanted to die.

You were 18,

you told me to wait.

When I was 18,

depressed with split wrists,

I wanted to die.

You were 26,

you told me to wait.

When I was 26

and slipped off the roof

I wanted to live.

You were 26,

the spitting image of me,

like looking in a mirror.

It took me until our fourth encounter to cry.