tragic fiction, happy endings:
flying away
to some extended-stay hotel
in some guy’s magic land
where partly sunny ruins the day
the world is cruel business, see?
sometimes this strikes me funny
like laughing at a funeral, death
do us part
happy few go on forever as
they start, those poor nine-lives cats
and breeding bunnies, whose tales
aren't much worth
writing about
what I don't want to be
interested in what I think
I'm trying to get at, to know, is the truth:
life just feels more real when
you drink your coffee from a broken cup,
when dawn wakes up
to greet you—you—
with the cold dew on your toes
(c) by Hannah Six
Image: aingnamma
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