Love and Lily tears.
We are the problem.
The wailing of man is constant.
And people cause that.
Time will tell what is human.
Weakness that ensures weakness suffers sorrow-tears.
Like they never cry too, nor thirst.
Like they never age or die.
And man.
And weakness.
And failure to stop the crying.
To stop the sobbing.
And failure to hold the weeping tight in a loving embrace.
Or mend the broken.
Or wash sores of the troubled.
Stop wailing, man!
Stop crying, stop dying, man!
Stop fighting.
Please, we love you, man.
We are hungry, man. We're weak and thirsty, tired, and fading.
Please help us, man. Save us!
Don’t hit us, man. Don’t hurt us.
The wailing of man is constant, is constant.
And people cause that.
Time will tell what is human, and failing, and dying.
About the Creator
Martins Abuah
I want to serenade you.
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Reactor 4
I only ask that you get what you deserve. After all these years of putting yourself first. I can't deny the shock nor the relief that somehow still hurts. It was either you or me that needed to leave and I don't know which way was worse. I'm glad I didn't lose my nerve. I'm glad you can't swallow me up anymore. The fallout was endurable because I had already planned on radiation poisoning. I witnessed the meltdown of our egos flush away any chance at redemption. I knew you weren't infallible but you still had to prove you were. How do I redefine myself when you were the one defining factor? What more can I disregard? Every single red flag and inconsistent flaw? Who was I before the procedure of lobotomy? You left me in standby mode and now I'm in recovery mode. Who am I after this hypothetical treason? If I remember the despair, then I remember everything. If I ever said forever, then I'm sure I meant it at the time. I watched these events unfold as if I wasn't an active participant. Life just happened as if I had no will or choice. I could have altered my course and sailed for new waters. Instead, I sat the helm and marooned this shipwreck into hostile Mercury. I tried to even the score and keep three steps ahead of you. Why did we treat this love like a competition? This board game of a marriage was a crooked one from the start. Rewards and punishments were the way I demonstrated my resolve. How could we have spoken the truth that everything was falling apart? How did I ever believe that you were redeemable once? I don't know if certainty will ever find me but I will search for it with the utmost sincerity. I've already pivoted from scheduled unhappiness. Deviating from unwelcome reality and inevitable consequences. I always wanted more but you always settled for less. The strongest commitment was the one I could only make for myself. It's just a flimsy word when actions don't align and you never follow through. I kept projecting the worst I could imagine and you still somehow managed to undermine even that. This broken alliance hasn't summoned a surrender out of me yet. I am still loyal and devoted, just to myself. You had me wallowing in pity notions and unfounded doubt. Because of you, selfishness is something I could do without. You were the collateral damage in the war against myself. You continuously chose yourself over everyone else. Somehow, you still bring out the worst in me. Somehow, I still let you have this profound effect on me. What is this hellfire I keep waltzing through? Why do I allow this hysteria to continue? Will this lunacy ever end? When will your ghost stop haunting me and let me move on? I have new elevations to conquer. I have more sights to behold. I must cut out this cancer like a tumor in order to heal. This meltdown is imminent and must be shut down. I can't escape the contamination but I can escape you. We have been hazardous to ourselves and it's time for inoculation. My gas mask is useless but it's still my best defense. I will go left while you go right. I can't focus on you anymore if I want to flee from radiation sickness. I can still make it out alive. I know I can
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I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
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