These words are all about things that are far away

I love the music you made

nearly empty child I’m sorry
when your mind is gone I’ll run
when the look in your eyes is only out the window
I’ll stare and hope to see something good
but I’ll run

200 years later

coming down from drugs
something we meant to do together
but coming down I thought
about how we were close and how very few times I’ve been close to someone
how I liked your bed and your face and back

WE

sad people who want to kill all the gays
I don’t know you I don’t understand you

we all love and are all scared
we are all kids

200 years later 2

you made music too
and your little voice fought through

Art is crying

the fucking hopeless past tense
is a dream and I lost that sad situation
that book to be written
about a before love that will always be love and was mutual in the middle of the physical
and this is different
there were different people
they are always people
the only one is I and the rest are all
and we join and I sing
and when more sing we live