Remembering the last days

He was like me

I think

the way I wrote out lyrics

to all my favorite songs

in a notebook I began keeping

when everything I loved

had all gone under:

the exact same way, with his

thick books and his totems,

as I sat there with my headphones

listening hard and conjuring images from the melodies,

underlining for posterity

the parts that I loved the most.

“Then she drew the curtains down and said
‘oh when will you ever learn
that what happens there beyond the glass is
simply none of your concern?
God has given you but one heart, you are
not a home for the hearts of your brothers
and God don’t care for your benevolence any more
than He cares for the lack of it in others.
Nor does He care for you
to sit at windows in judgment of
the world He created
while sorrows pile up around you
ugly, useless, and overinflated.'”

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