probably a beautiful tuesday morning

but waking up to hear him say that you


threw yourself off over an

overpass. surreal as it seems,

i wasn’t crying till i hung up i thought


dad’s voice quivers and mine cracks,

i thought

and then, remembering you/i didn’t say goodbye


i left at 7, and you were


asleep in clothes from the daybefore with

a weedhangover


so why are we still at odds

fighting when you’re battered in bed


because i can’t not be mad,

imagine Evan, hunched over


crying and not knowing whatelse to do.

and i can’t call mom because i’m too hungry to start crying again.





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