A vial of hope and a vial of pain, in the light they both looked the same.
Across the hall, I catch a glimpse of one of the one hundred and forty-four thousand kneeling and taking a taste from the emblem. And I breathe, how cool! You're going to heaven. You're going to meet Jesus fucking Christ.
There are some people who belong in heaven, and they're just not going.
Heels pumping and ties tucking, we straggle out under the same foggy full moon he did, grave on his back. This is the only woeful funeral I've ever been to, and it's almost two thousand years late. The brothers keep shaking my hand like this is my first memorial, no, just the first in some time that I'm not tip-toeing around the date in total remorse. And even though the sister at the door assumes I'm just visiting, I finally feel like I'm doing something right.
But then, this isn't about me.
There are some people who belong in heaven, and they're just not going.
Heels pumping and ties tucking, we straggle out under the same foggy full moon he did, grave on his back. This is the only woeful funeral I've ever been to, and it's almost two thousand years late. The brothers keep shaking my hand like this is my first memorial, no, just the first in some time that I'm not tip-toeing around the date in total remorse. And even though the sister at the door assumes I'm just visiting, I finally feel like I'm doing something right.
But then, this isn't about me.