It’s 3:23 in the morning,
And I am awake.
Because my great great grandchildren won’t let me sleep.
My great great grandchildren ask me in my dreams:
“What did you do while the planet was plundered?
What did you do when the Earth was unravelling?
Surely you did something when the seasons started failing,
When the mammals and reptiles and birds started dying?
Did you fill the streets with protest,
When democracy was stolen?
What did you do, once you knew?”
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I think when it’s all over it just comes back in flashes, you know? It’s like a kaleidoscope of memories; it just all comes back. But he never does. I think part of me knew the second I saw him that this would happen. It’s not really anything he said, or anything he did - it was the feeling that came along with it. Crazy thing is, I don’t know if I’m ever going to feel that way again. But I don’t know if I should. I knew his world moved too fast, and burned too bright. But I just thought, “How can the devil be pulling you towards someone who looks so much like an angel when he smiles at you?” Maybe he knew that when he saw me. I guess I just lost my balance.
I think that the worst part of it all wasn’t losing him, it was losing me.
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