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I mourn, people

Before they have left.

I kick myself in the leg

Before there’s even a reason to bruise it.

I love, people

Even when the salivating trolls in

My head say that I’m better than that

That you’re better than that.

When I was seven

I asked my mother why all the songs on the radio were about love

And she said that’s life.

I cannot imagine the waterfall of thoughts that came from her chest that morning.

I’m mourning

I mourn, people

Whose eyes were glazed by the night.

And they’ve walked through my door but their body’s still there.

And I ask it

Do you want breakfast?

And it says no.

And I ask it

Do you want to bathe with me babe?

And it says no.

And the body’s still there but they’ve left it

And I’m wondering

Why all the songs on the radio are about love.