Fool Me Twice

by Carrie Aarons

You think you’re prepared for it … the death of someone you love. But you can’t know. You can’t know the kind of dagger, the dull kind inserted slowly into the muscle that the world views as the symbol of love. It rips apart every piece of flesh, every nerve, every vessel, every synapse.

You never know if you’ll be breathing in the next second after this one. Which is why I take every chance those precious seconds give me.

If you don’t think you’re the best, why the hell would other people think that?