i ask myself question such as “what if we were wrong, and the earth really is a square” which you gotta admit this would explain why we try so hard to live on the edge, and some people fall off.

And when we fall, we sprout wings like the clipped angel wings that i keep at my bedside to remind me that you still exist

and then it rains, and i go into my normal life contemplation, all my “what is lifes” and my “why is lifes” and then i wonder. maybe it rains like this because the angels are just as depressed as i am.