Writing

Ten years later. present day November 6th 2026

Neo stepped into the kitchen, just turned thirteen. His mother was drinking her coffee, looking at the door.

“Mother, give up. Soon isn’t a time. It never was” 

I know you still think of her

When it’s late at night 

And memories fall out of your eyelids and down your cheek

I would too, if I had known her

if I have to fight for your attention

then it is not worth fighting for

I am all alone. I have no friends. No one to talk to.

Everyone says it’s my fault. What did I do wrong?

People don’t want to be around me. They say I’m crazy.

I am not crazy.

i still search for you in the places i go

hoping to see you; a familiar face once again.

today i walked through the halls expecting to meet you, where you forever stood— but the man i saw wasn’t you;

What are we made of?

Flesh. Bones. Nerves. Muscle.

We are a cacophony of carrion all bundled together, 

Seen as holy,

Seen as beautiful.