i can still recall the feel of the satin lining in the coffin as he lay in a suit and heavy makeup as if asleep

i never did figure out if he was at peace or just painted to appear that way to put everyone else as ease

in the end it didn’t matter at all to anyone of us as he was surely burning in a pit of lava or raped by demons

and we had to live with the gap that his life had carved into every facet of our own bubbles of pure misery

all i really got out of it was what a waste a fancy box is for an empty shell in the grand scheme of things

but the satin felt smooth beneath my fingers even as i tried not to accidentally touch the waxy body i once knew

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