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when i was young
i didn’t want to die
but i wasn’t afraid
of it either.
i wasn’t going to let
a little thing like fear
get in the way of living.

i’ve taken to chopping
green onions and chili peppers
to add to every meal.
i usually add
too many peppers and find
myself, berating myself
for too much spice,
wondering if i even like
the self-inflicted torture
i’ve created, “just eat
it bland and be happy with it,”
a voice in the headed chastising.

reminds me of the tattoos
and the piercings
and the self-destructional
tendencies from a reckless youth.

the fire on the tongue
is a reminder there’s
much work to be done.