Mortal, Like Reincarnation, Like On The Television, Like Don’t You Know, Like I Didn’t See It, Like Quiet Smoke

to accept it, to stand in front of it
is a feeling i almost have,
sitting behind my throat like a
memory that may be true,
may be empathy.

i am distracted by the tragedy
of your blues in your greens.
i mourn it all,
behind.

i don’t know how to help what has already happened,
but i should.

i see yr pain in RGB.

by Abbie Heath