If You Get Sad

I have started seeing veins in my hands,
just like my mothers, and they scare me.
I don’t want to get older, but I’ve never
been able to stop it before. It’s like the
way out looks nothing like a door, but
something completely different. I don’t
know why I gave away the crushed
up soda can that was my soul. If it was that
or die there wasn’t really a choice at all.
The point of everything was supposed to be
to ease the pain, but what we got was
just a series of larger and larger boots
stepping on our faces, and leaving different
traces of shame that form marks on our
brain and do there best to keep it all
the same.
I don’t like to blame people for their pasts
because that’s how we get locked in the
present. I just think that there’s some gates
somewhere that haven’t been open for
a while and an old man with a smile
looks at his reflection in a warm cup
of tea. I think we owe him a conversation
about the land he hides from.
It’s either that or take to the trees
before you can’t run anymore
and there are no other options.
Survival has always been the game
it’s just more comfortable here.
If you get sad just go to the doctor
or drink some beer.

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