The forced grin of the black jeep as it passes
I said I can’t just say there will be ravens
There it is circling lazily above
I wonder if he can see the sun from there
The clouds are higher but maybe there’s a break
There are too many
They won’t all be on the path they belong on
Just like I fell how many others go down the hole only to come up for air
And think it’s just not worth it only to dive down again
Purple like the leaves that these trees have but the others don’t
It gives them a burnt quality.
Do I have a burnt quality from sitting too close to all the suns
Or not
Truthfully I can draw lines from these back to many others
Like they start out as threads released on metallic plastic
Then they get stitched together later
It doesn’t really matter what I realise though
Stubborn final bees too
Did I bring it to life or kill it later?
Both probably apply.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to come out of this hole without a hand up
So I just hang on the edge until I can’t hold on anymore
And then watch as they watch as I fall in again.
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