music.

bishop.

tw: death

i remember the day that they died.
you called me at work in the
middle of my shift shooken up,
you wailed and cried
you were hours away
divorce was on the horizon
your mother
she went to get the last of her things
brothers in tow, each under her wings
wanting to grab their toys, their cars,
living in an apartment, left the trampoline

the pool's mostly empty now, and green.

i was always taught that ghosts scream
that any haunted house is a broken record
out of a low-budget horror scene
blood on the walls, ripped at the seams,
what they never tell you in the movies
is that the real scare is going to the house
six months later and finding it empty

and silent.

all that's left is the memory of the violent
no one left to water the yard
grass is yellow, in the garden
wilted violets
and the paintings still hang on the walls.
the lamp is still there on the nightstand
the pots and pans are still in the kitchen
the paper is still on the desk
everything is still where it should be
every item right where it was left
except this sudden void in your soul
and the unending feeling of being depressed
and lost,

scared

a lost lamb in a land once shared
a home where you would draw or write
and now all that's left is light
flittering in through the windows
that just feels so out of place
paintings on the floor covering up
the holes where the bullets laid
open casket you broke down
at the sight of his little face

god what a fucking monster

two years now since the day you lost her
and i have no idea how you are.
i took it upon myself to watch over you, a foster
and hoped to show you real love after this imposter
came into your life and ripped it in pieces
with this targeted hatred and ceaseless screaming
god if i could go back in time.

even still now i wish to trade their lives for mine

even if it just meant another day,
maybe one last time for you to
share a smile or say goodbye
to make peace and hug your mom
or read harry potter to your brothers here
in person and not occasionally from beyond
the grave that plays that same god-fucking-forsaken
song as the house does when you visit.

silence.

why dont they play music in the graveyards.

why dont they play music in the graveyards.