(found in the space in fragments cracked and broken)
How’s this the place to be? How’s anything the space we’ve seen? Now or never. We go always and forever. Never.
I am sad now and sad permanently. Not for the general reasons like usual, the general reasons that just float off into the sky like the grey clouds of a rainstorm. No. For the specific reasons. The reasons that got drilled deep into the skull a long time ago. The reasons that convince them all to run – perhaps with regret, hopefully with sniffles – that convince them all to take at least a step back.
I’m sitting beneath a starry night sky, but all I feel is the inky black, feel it flowing through my veins and sucking out the warmth of my chest. If only there were clouds here, pillows here, on which I could rest my aching head, my sorry head, here. If only. Ha. If only. If only there were more sun and less rain, more of the moon and less of the frightful image of a bloody Mars. But Pluto floats away and has been lost as well. Pluto is gone, a nominal procedure certainly, and I am floating with it. Hoh. Hohoho!
What was the name we thought of? Late in the night when the sirens blared and jerked us out from sleep? Early in the evening when I walked away and returned to find you teary eyed amongst the mess I made? The name, again, please?
And I am so sorry. I am sorry now and sorry permanently.