I am creative and boring
I wonder about my family’s past
I hear dead people
I see spring around the corner
I want my dad back
I am creative and boring

I pretend to not care
I feel the sadness of others
I touch the sun
I worry about what the end is like
I cry about life
I am creative and boring

I understand almost nothing
I say that Christ is real
I dream about what life could be like if he were here
I try to do my best
I hope everything will work out
I am creative and boring

Light shoulders, heavy wings:

Grief as elevation
Grief placed in the mouths of babes and bystanders
Grief visited in sterile places
Grief spoon fed for weeks
Grief taken to momentary extremes
Grief as a diving bell

A 10cm network for all you need/nothing can ever be too fresh