Fragments

Where are you?
And why did those hyena laughs make me miss you?

I'm on the floor and these pages remind me those cries for being heard aren't my only option. I have you. And I have your pages. Those hyenas wouldn't laugh at your jokes but they make me feel so much less alone.

Falling through the earth. Oh little darling, I can barely hear you. When I reach the surface and fall back down towards the moon. I can see you bob and sway to your own music inside of your ears and I know that's exactly why you're so beautiful.

Not doing enough, never doing enough. Don't be so amazed by this lack of doing. I see them disgusted mostly by seeing their own reflection in your innocence. It's not innocence when I could be you. But I'd rather die.

An option that doesn't even seem that bad when you weigh it with walking atrophy. That's where this gets tricky. With all your options in all your days in all your minutes, will you die from living or die from the lacking?

We learned how to be something.