Pantoum - April 14th, 2008

“Don’t forget your jacket!”
It was a simple friendly gesture.
Sitting out on the concrete steps, I wait.
A bright smile was on his face as he took a seat beside me.

It was a simple friendly gesture.
A gift he had, for my mother.
A bright smile was on his face as he took a seat beside me.
Black.

A gift he had, for my mother.
Screams of horror and terror filled the air.
Black.
“Where is Sean? Where is he? What’s going on?”

Screams of horror and terror filled the air.
His picture was displayed in front of the black clad men with badges.
“Where is Sean? Where is he? What’s going on?”
This was the most sympathetic look I’ve ever seen.

His picture was displayed in front of the black clad men with badges.
“Check the boxes.”
This was the most sympathetic look I’ve ever seen.
Fragments of people, kept in containers for miles to see.

“Check the boxes.”
Frozen with horror; this was my fault.
Fragments of people, kept in containers for miles to see.
These dreams I have; they are my fault.

Frozen with horror; this was my fault.
Sitting out on the concrete steps, I wait.
These dreams I have; they are my fault.
“Don’t forget your jacket!”

Nothing quite says "fuck you" like you do.

i feel like i haven't been alive in over a week. i cannot concentrate, cannot sleep, cannot be awake.
i cannot be anything more than a walking zombie.

maybe this is a reflection of myself. maybe i am not good enough to be alive. maybe, possibly, i am not human. i am bones and flesh that manage to get through each long day. i drone and shuffle like everything else. i am not me, but i am a mirror image of what i am supposed to be.

society molds us in the worst way possible.
crazy talk and silent exchanges.
i am the drug dealer and you are the preacher.
in the end, we're both sinners.
and we're all going to hell.