Here is this tiny city:
It breathes
And it sinks when it exhales.
Its weight is
I M M E N S E .
It is heavy with you,
And it is heavy with me
And it is heavy with all of our words.
Our arguments are lurking in windows
Our make-ups draining through the grates into
Underground wells
Forming rivers
(To the sea, to the center of the earth).
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Also, that poem up the top is pretty great. OMG, I am so lucky coz all my friends are so talented.
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I think it is nice to comfort your friend, I hope he gets it and I hope you get something out at the funeral. I had 2 funerals this year and I find walking away from people, crying really hard and doing some wobbly runs helps.
Oh and now I have more reason to be scared of buildings... or maybe less?
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