a (very) short story
even after months(years?)
of being unable(willing?)
to write
he still writes about her
and three days ago
he wanted to sit
at a bookstore
and just read
in silence next to someone
and he thought of her
and two days ago
he dreamed of cake
and today
he wrote in old code
cause even still
he had to say things
without saying things
a (very) short story
he doesn't come across themvery often anymore
yet every time he does
he can see it
his jaws
quietly clenched
in every single picture
she ever took of him
and sometimes he wonders
how things would be now
if just one time
he had been able to relax
and smile for her
lyrics that are about me but aren't actually about me:
"been failing for years and call yourselves vets / that's bold / motherfucker you're not a vet / you're just old"
- El-P in "We're Famous" by Aesop Rock, from the album Bazooka Tooth