Recovery is just an excuse to talk about yourself
And life gets boring when you stop thinking stop dreaming stop seeking redemption from those who wronged you
Do you think they know they wronged me?
I think about what he did
Between the night and the day
The midnight sounds
Confirming what I thought
I was there
I love all of you
And I observe it, occupy it, disown it, but remain laced in your bonde dust buried in your ear ducts
I’ll always be there for you
Steering you, haunting you, folded into your dark memories, dry scars, the dead ladybugs that draped the window sill in the room that looked like a silo in the neighborhood that felt like a farm down 10 different roads in another time zone
I was there but I didn’t want to be
You get so old you realize the people who died young would have been dead anyway

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