Her Hallway

I envy you.

I can't wait to leave.

Last night I saw you etched in these engraved outlines. It was strange, you were a painting and two-dimensional, but also real. Maybe they were taking you away to put into the giant storage-box of the Universe. Strangely, I understood. Down here we still have nothing left but faith.

The picture was fluttering out of our hands.

"You don't know how it feels," everyone says. "You have no claim. You have no right."

I think that my family is the only one that has the audacity to laugh death in the face.

Some peoples' love throws me into more of a rage right now. We will not be placated. We will not be consoled. Our anger is righteous. Our anger comes from love.

I never really knew you.

We always think of those who leave with selfishness. Maybe my hated blood is right. Maybe you are better off.

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