The hot ink has already cooled even before it's hit the paper. The oceans of silence with the mass of eyes in the waves. What are these creatures, I do not know them and they certainly do not know me. I watch men and women drown. I see their avenues and expertise vanish beneath the waters. I see their forms twist and repulse from this world in shadows.
I watch the oceans tears, hear the waves " I should have talked to them. " " I always loved what they did! " " They were the best! " So quick to justify our intent. We would have done well. We could have shown our friends, we could have written to them, got to know them. They're gone now.
We idolize them but it's not them anymore. The body is gone, they're invisible. All they are is an idea without the ability to talk back. It's...tidy. We hate the concept, we love the implementation. They're forever ours.
We could do so much for each other because we're already dead. Let us ease the prospect and enjoy the ride but most of all...Stop making puppets of our corpses.
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Published:
10 years, 1 month ago
28 Feb 2015 05:55 CET
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