Money is not important.
I feel fine.
How did I survive?
There was no time.
It was a book,
a story of my life.
I can hear my heart beat.
He stabbed me twice,
and only eight stitches.
It was a twelve inch blade.
Black.
Once in the upper lip.
Once in the mouth.
All the way.
To the back of the throat.
I'm not shaken.
Just bliss.
A cool breeze in the air,
a will to be better,
and a chance...