Hey man, it’s ok. It’s me.
You don’t have to do this anymore.
My name is just a name.
The rope was just a rope
the weed was something helpful –
at least that part was fun.
I left you, and I am sorry.
I wasn’t as strong as you.
You, who had it roughest
fuckin’ beat-ass and slum
licking mother – records
skipping alone, listening to
rats in the walls; Padraic
alone in an alder
coming down never;
so I went up with him,
so what?
See, I couldn’t climb
trees or up to your word clouds.
I couldn’t get anywhere past my eyebrows.
Ugly fuck and jailbird brown.
But you, dude, you’ve got
fucking wings and you don’t even
have to die to use them, don’t you see?
They’re attached to your back as you
type and they places you fly, holy shit,
brother – take me there, I want to come with you now –
Let me see how you make these decisions
about oatmeal and steel and saving graces.
Of rain and brakes and heavy-trips downward.
Love, is everywhere, look around you. You could try writing
about it, when you are done here…
No-where to go up, but remember,
the opposite is not down.
You couldn’t have saved me.
It wasn’t your fault.
I hurt too bad. Down was all I had. But
down isn’t the answer. Neither is up in a rope.
Beautiful. Made me tear up Liz.
Yet another one I love ♥️
xD.