Right of Way

I want a tattoo that says "magic between my ribs
Always feels like a miracle when I breathe in
Was never fully suicidal, just aware that I'm so fragile
Being alive's so tenuous it's hard to believe it
It's not that I thought I'd be gone by now
I just never really pictured myself living
Short-sighted underclassmen with their arms stretched out
Waiting to embrace the gentle end

And I still brace for impact when I'm crossing
The street even when I've got right of way
I expect to be bug on someone's windshield
I expect to be the wreckage on ward parkway
Every night before I go to sleep
Next to the body I'll wake up with in the morning
I think about how much it does for me
And apologize for all the ways I've hurt it
I used to stare out of the car window
Imagine disappearing into the landscape
Picture myself small within the tallgrass
I wanted to live all by myself in the prairie
I think that's why I think I'm built to die here
But I don't think that it's anytime soon
Not until I live to be a million
And every square inch of me's tattooed