When one turns their back on the suffering of the world,
they are no longer sorry
Sunrays break in the crevices of the dark hole in which grief has buried them

Darkness is an old friend of theirs and they find comfort in not having to use their eyes
Just like the swollen blisters of the heart which keeps one in comfortable sorrow

The erasure of shame and the dirty work of healing is a prayer
They pray for discomfort
They pray to feel a cold sweat trembling down their spine
And to have feelings again

The cave keeps one safe
When one tells themself that they belong in this cave,
they cannot be perceived by the world’s creatures

They cannot be scratched or bitten
At least if they are the one to hurt themselves, control still lies within hand
And when one labels themselves as a victim, it allows them to pursue life unseen and perfectly irresponsible

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel
And they realize that they were never a victim of the world’s suffering
They crawl
They beg
They pray for discomfort
To see the world hanging upside down as the bats fidget and swoop
out of the darkness into the light

This cave no longer serves them
Their sorrows will kill them
Their soul longs for a greater meaning than the dark,
damp walls that this crumbling home has provided

Creeping on their hands and knees, they bring the light closer
The moistened air becomes cold and the light becomes blinding
Their tears are sparks of what overstimulating joy could be

Coming out of their cave dragging their feet behind them
They see the world for the first time and the great expanse before them
The illusion that the cave was the only part of this universe flees away in dismay

How could they have stayed in the darkness for so long?
The world is too big for their eyes and their heart
It’s cold and dangerous with people who speak a different tongue
But passion burns through each and every single one of their souls
The cave dweller makes a decision
This discomfort will save them
Transitions the coldness of their heart to the goosebumps of their skin
With the blinding sun rays that caress their cold little body,
they are alive and perfectly stunned

When a human dies, the world stands still for a quiet moment and no one on earth can breathe. Then each individual except for you takes their next inhale and I realize that the world was never still at all.

People say that they would die for you, but do people ever say that they would live for you?
I would live for you; I will live the life that you never got to experience fully and I will take you with me.

The sorts of things that people live for; I will chase exhilaration as a hungry ghost praying for its bones and flesh.
I will collect my insides begging to love them. I will watch fireflies and wonder what they mean.

I will curse the day that you had to leave this blip of mine.
I will dance until I cry, then I will cry until I laugh. I will throw myself into the depths of an ice bath just to miss the heat.

I will find joy in the little things because it’s what you would have wanted. And I will stop smoking cigarettes out of spite. I will celebrate the person that you were and the people that you healed and forgive you for letting yourself be so out of reach.

Since you disappeared, I’ve seen you everywhere! At the sight of tea, the sound of a sad guitar, in the eyes of those who loved you.
Those who knew the gift of knowing you and wanted you so badly to stay.

When a human dies, the soul searches the universe for a body to be held; what I would do to feel your warm tears wet my goose-bumped shoulder and squeeze your hand saying that we’re not that different from each other instead of this.

When a human dies, their friends and blood carry their body across the fields of a lonesome cemetery and place flowers to keep them company.
And for some people the world keeps spinning. But for some of us, the world is just as still.