M.
I wrote the letter and stared.
I screamed and damned the progressive world.
I died
I looked at the sky, and realized there was no one looking over me.
I looked down and saw my grave, saw my bed, saw too much.
Saw the world birth new fascinating carbon, saw new fruit sprout
in white dress goodbyes.
Wet zits and beerbreath.
I remember when I walked with a woman
who didn't slow,
I fell.
I always imagined her returning to extend a hand
But to imagine is an image,
a line to progress past despair,
towards hope and strength to stand in this world!
Although I sat.
Ridiculous in costume.
The world will walk right past you if you dont stand up.
Sometimes they'll step on you.
and not even know it.
