Untitled

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

still,

asleep in clothes from the daybefore with

a weedhangover

 

so why are we still at odds

fighting when you’re battered in bed

because

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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