nodding to the beat, not the sorrow

it was already
one of those days
where the idea
of taking off my shoes
leaving them sitting
with a note
on the passenger seat
then jumping into
the inviting lake
from the concrete bridge
spanning the shores

then i found out
another friend had
killed himself

i guess those of us
with mental issues
have a way of magically
finding one another
maybe the magnetism of
bipolarity draws us
into each other’s orbit
momentarily creating
an ionic bond that
time cannot distort
a blending of madnesses
allowing us each to feel
slightly more normal
as a result of these
shared insanities

he was one of the few
people that took their
love of music to the
same extreme as i do
we would sit and talk
about obscure noise bands
or the magic of the pixies
for hours on end
we didnt always agree
but we always laughed
even in our dark times

he made his mistakes
but he learned from them
and did his best
perhaps this was the only
way out he could find

so i drive over the bridge
not stopping
not today
i have some albums
to listen to at home
a few of the shitty ones
he swore i just didn’t get
maybe it is because
i wasn’t mourning him
at least not at the time
let’s see how they sound
with a fresh coating of
abject misery

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