i arrive.
i arrive,
i arrive,
i arrive, i suppose?
i’m not really sure.
i’m here,
but i’m not really here.
i was there,
but not really there either.
i got caught in a bardo.
and i’m fighting,
i am fighting
with all my focus
to be here.
i want to be here, now.
but i am not here.
their eyes when they see me-
they are so happy to see me.
i’ve abandoned them,
but they take me back so quick,
they think they have me back.
“i’m not here to stay…
you know that..”
i am gentle but my tone,
but firm with my intentions.
“i know, but maybe…”
they reply cheekily..
i hide an undercurrent of resentment.
they haven’t even asked how i am,
they haven’t even asked what i want.
they haven’t even asked who i am anymore.
“we don’t have much time!”
here,
and there,
they want to go.
they are right.
we don’t have much time.
but they aren’t asking,
they aren’t listening..
i’m tired.
i don’t want to go here,
or there.
i want to lay on grass.
bathed under Canadian summer sun,
and sleep.
and sleep
and sleep
and sleep.
i am so damn tired.
they keep looking at me,
like i am golden sunlight.
but i don’t think they see me.
i really want them to see me.
please,
see me.
please.
i’ve arrived,
in Van-city, love,
and this is the first time
since i gave my brother to the sea.
and i’m not sure how to communicate how i feel about it.
i got caught in a bardo.
and i’m trying,
to be here,
now.
but i can’t.
i want to be there,
in the basement library,
writing my way out of the Bardo
with black sin ink and a tabula rasa.
it’s the only way i know how.
please understand.
i miss him so much.
i’m here and all i see is him, my elder brother,
and all the lives he doesn’t get to live.
i’ve arrived,
in Van-city, love.
but i got caught in a bardo,
and i need to write my way out of it.
let me write my way out of it.
i need this.
i need space.
i need time.
i need you to give me time.
oh..
but you’re right..
we don’t have much time..
so we go..
we go..
we go.
but i’m just
so
damn
tired.

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