this is a dark house

with the porch light on

and a Neil Diamond cover band playing

on hell’s main stage,

powder blue jumpsuits with some

deeper meaning affixed to 

the mistakes you made 

with your son

in the next room, listening

like your hand is pulling on his shirt collar. 

ask yourself why you’re here. 

ask yourself who gave you 

your father’s hands

in a glass box

on a shelf. 

he deserves better than this,

should be having twice the nightmares,

can’t stop drinking at this point

what’s the point

can’t give a fuck

can’t answer the question of 

if you even want to live

knock once for yes, if you yell it means

virtually the same. 

no response is the 


to worry about. 
(Inspired by s2e3 of True Detective)


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