i find it kind of funny, i find it kind of sad

the rock might as well be a stone.

the stone might as well be a boulder.

“take me away from here, please.”

Time looks back at me–it’s ahead you see, as it always wins.

Don’t wish me away, love.

A scolding voice.

“but-but-but this place, it drowns me.”

it’s not the place, goose. it’s the thoughts, the feelings, you.

I laugh because I have to. How else can I respond?

“you’ve named things I can’t get away from.”

As if Time doesn’t know that already, as if I am the one with all the answers.

Eyes are rolled.

does Time have eyes?

I know that. That’s the puzzle of it all.

good luck

[it’s funny that all that has come out of all this is scattered thoughts turned into poetry. i haven’t even managed whole sentences since he left. because i can’t. i can’t. pain into beauty, eh?]


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