A/N: I know, I know. It's not Harry Potter. And it's a poetry/song fic. Not something I usually write. I do not own/claim TFiOS. That belongs solely to the wonderful John Green.

I am a grenade.
He is a ticking bomb.
Exploding not the same,
now I know.
I understand the pain.

Hurt,
like nothing I have ever felt,
even when the air went,
but now it's my heart,
not my lungs.

Lungs that don't work properly,
refusal of oxygen,
filling with cancer-fluid,
disgustingly gross,
yet part of me.

Like he was.
A part of me,
love.
A short infinity of love,
but I am pleased

at least
to have had that little bit
of infinity with him.
He was a ticking bomb,
always set to go off.

I am a grenade,
ready to explode,
but the trigger has yet to be pulled
and I have not been thrown.
To die another day.