<Mount Eerie> page <A Crow Looked At Me> album page |
Real DeathDeath is real, someone's there and then they're notAnd it's not for singing about; it's not for making into art When real death enters the house, all poetry is dumb When I walk into the room where you were And look into the emptiness instead All fails My knees fail My brain fails Words fail Crusted with tears, catatonic and raw, I go downstairs and outside and you're still getting mail A week after you died, a package with your name on it came And inside was a gift for our daughter you had ordered in secret, and collapsed there on the front steps I wailed: A backpack for when she goes to school a couple years from now You were thinking ahead to a future you must have known deep down would not include you, though you clawed at the cliff you were sliding down, being swallowed into a silence that is bottomless and real It's dumb, and I don't want to learn anything from this I love you |