Monday is an awful day,
especially when we had all taken Friday morning for granted,
and Thursday evening,
and every day before that,
We were asked to stomach a lot of this,
but we were all living on empty stomachs,
our minds flooded with the wrong kind of floodwater
he was just a little boy,
and she was his best friend,
and the sickness in your synapses is all to blame for all of this,
and you would never let us rewire you,
you were not to be touched,
and maybe we would have done it wrong,
maybe you were the glitch in this,
the virus,
the hiccup to happiness,
he was my little boy,
and she was the same as me,
and they were one in the same,
until you came,
My God believed in fear,
and maybe it was lying dormant in all of us,
maybe,
but maybe it was something more than that,
maybe it was the only thing we saw eye to eye on,
he was my brother,
and she was me,
and we are all the same,
us siblings that you've torn in two,
because you could,
because your synapses were faulty in their filing,
in their firing,
because you had your right to bear those arms,
just as I had my right not to do the same,
aim,
aim---
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