Standing with a rip world
I tweet my last piece
See you in hell algorithms!..
Resting in peace for a day!...
Using the hash tag #Twitter!.

Tired of runnin’
And fussin’
And sparin’ the details.

We got it good now,
A house, a family, you can go to school.
You won’t learn about us, baby,
They don’t give lessons on strange fruits.

The road derails, your smile retains:
Hope.
I pray you’ll never see blood on the leaves.

I'm on the Empire State Building.
The air has never felt so thin,
my clothes so light,
almost weightless in the way they fit.

It's rush hour.
Below me, the bustling pace
of the Big Apple. New York City
never sleeps, so they miss things often.

It's a Sunday morning.
I can hear the bells...
They're louder than usual today.
Is there a wedding?

Everything's black.
The dresses, suits, the ties, the back of my eyelids.
I'm at the peak of the city that never sleeps.
The angels have begun descending.
I'm ready.

I remember the days
where we could laugh and play
in the middle of August.
Those days where the sun
had no bounds. We played

until we couldn't breathe, until
our voices were no more than
shallow sounds lost in the breeze
that carried them until they
lost meaning.

Looking back, I wonder when that day came.
When did those voices fall mute?
When did they die?

Or maybe, are they out there?
Still floating on the wind,
lofty clouds that will never rain?

If I were to talk to god,
I imagine that he would look like an aging French artist living in Germany,
With a slightly severe case of depression
And also an unsettling smoking addiction.

I imagine he would be living in an apartment room barely big enough for his ego.
With nothing but a bed and a nightstand
with an ash tray and a bottle of whiskey, half full.
And between puffs of smoke he would sip from a lowball glass, and sit.

He’d keep his door unlocked, for no one ever visits,
And when they do, they assume they’ve opened the wrong door
And they would quickly go search for the man they thought he was.
He’d let out a chuckle between sips.

However, if I were to meet this artist,
I would just ask him what he’s done.
And he will reply, with smoke trailing from his nostrils and the tone of a drunk,
"Hell if I know."

One day... I woke up.
I don't remember how long I was asleep,
or even if I was asleep,
or dead,
or something.
There are just some things in life that can't be understood.
And for a long time, I refused to take that for an answer. I mean,
WHY?!
The unanswerable question and answer.
One day, long ago,
I took a break from the world to visit the cosmos.
I don't remember how long I was gone,
or even if I left,
but what I do know,
is nothing.
Nothing more than you.
And I'm okay with that.

Everyone knew, including him,
that if you sat too close to the TV, your eyes would die.
But nobody knew, but him,
that if you sit too far away, you miss out on the experience.
It's why he plays!