Sadness is pretty
And that is problematic
The memories that stick out
The sitting in bed
Not knowing whether he was dying or just sick
But letting the sitcoms play
And your brain numb
That was so ordinary
But I have photos
And I find those photos beautiful
It's coming up to three years since
And I'm still sad as a state of being
And I still walk heavy in skyways
And I still eat cereal since I don't want to bother Mama
Since she yells at me enough
But crying is on the list I made
of things that are attractive
And apathy absolutely is not
Yet I've found that pretty blue sadness turns grey fast
And grey turns colorless
I would rather have something
I find beautiful and problematic consume me
Than to keep on going aimlessly
I don't even know what to do anymore
His ghost was never scary
But I saw something today that was
And I don't know what to make of it
Since I hardly know what to make of anything right now
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