mama’s bastard son, inkblot art with added detail

Heavy Eyes
with six cans of tall boys
crushed in front of him
and he’s on the verge of tears
There coulda been a way
to save him.

The avenues of any process
can be long
and arduous
especially when one makes up their mind
to die
so of course they’re going to be asking questions
why didn’t we catch the signs
and I’m the asshole over in the corner
more occupied
counting how many times I’ve heard inebriated warriors

(Just 5).

I said
I’ve got hands
more weathered than his
that reached out to stop the fall
but he still fell
through me
because at that time
it was just what he needed to do.
And yeah
I asked why
lots of times
but it just wasn’t a choice
I should make for him.

How can you rationalize
so harshly?
he asked me.
‘Cause it’s all that was left
to do.

how do I explain to you
that some souls can’t be reached
because we’ll never uncover
the right way to seize them
and what’s more
how do I explain to you
it’s ok
to let them go?
There’s only so much blood
you can put back in
before it comes out again
and brains ain’t known
for their external survival rate.


But he knows
we’ve seen shit
and I’m tired of dishing out
the standard lines
about repairing the break
and not becoming it
and the usefulness that still exists
beyond destruction.
Fuck it.

The truth is
if you feel the fire
burning the building down
then you can choose
how you escape it
and some jump
some suffocate
but some just got a thing
for third degree burns
so they embrace the flame
and blaze with it.
And we gotta be OK
with all of that
because if you’ve got to continue living
in burnt-out houses
it’s all in how you justify
being left with the pile of ashes.

It’s ashes. It’s ashes, OK?
There’s nothing you can do to change it.

Heavy Eyes
be a Stoic
’cause we’re gonna go at midnight
look Death in the eye
and move past It.
This is all a game we’re playing
and so what
if they left us?
I’ve still got my hands on your back
and you can still hear him laugh.

Rationalize what’s left

Jillian wrote this.


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