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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