we were the lost generation
creeping around in abandoned houses
playing with ouija boards
talking to spirits
hoping to anger our gods enough
that they’d let us know they were real
and not just part of an overactive imagination
which we’ve always hoped was the truth
because an afterlife is scary
and so is having a god
but the alternative is worse
not having one at all
because who can you cry to then
when you’re alone and too
depressed
to go on any longer
without some holy sovereign hope
that it will get better it will