Once there was nothing, nothing, nothing at all
and then there was a bang and I do mean the big one and a pale blue dot was born with it's very own star and very own moon and on this dot a boy was born with ten fingers and ten toes he had a mom who cleaned and drank and a dad who worked and drank storing all their booze in the basement cabinet The boy grew through the grades up into his high school days keeping the same friends all the way whom he shared his deepest thoughts and they always shared the same and he got himself a girl and said he cared and meant it and he liked to kiss her on the lips the weekends brought parties and hangovers and sex and his parents didn't know In the time he spent alone he wrote poems and short stories because he liked to get it out and his grades weren't bad just above average and he smoked pot with his friends and they always brought a light and I don't mean the ones named 'Bic' I mean what gleams in the eyes and all this made him happy The boy grew to another grade into his sophomore days telling the same old friends his deepest and darkest thoughts and they said they felt the same and they lit up a joint and talked about space and how it's all nothing oh how this made them laugh and he made love to his girl and said he cared and said he meant it and Fridays brought the parties with the red plastic cups and Saturdays the vomit and his parents pretended not to know and he only wrote poems because that's all he thought to write and his grades weren't bad and he smoked pot with his friends and sometimes he smoked alone and he brought his own light and all this seemed to make him happy The boy grew another year into his 'whatever' days telling his closest friends his darkest, blackest thoughts and they said they felt the same and gave a peculiar look and ripped into their bong and talked about sports and the boy dazed into nothing and his girl found a new boy and he called her a whore and said he didn't care but he knew he didn't mean it and he started his party early straight from the bottle and continued it on the weekend and everyday brought vomit and his parents didn't care and booze went missing from the basement cabinet and he didn't write poems because he thought they were pretentious his grades slogged along and he got stoned with a friend and he got stoned all alone and he never saw a light and nothing made him anything The boy found himself in a new year his very last days telling his only friends his darkest inner thoughts and they said they didn't understand and they never spoke again and he drank all the time and smoked all the same and he never spoke to his girl anymore and never really thought about her he skipped the weekend parties because why would he go and he grew paranoid and formed a dark cloud deep within his minds endless dark and heavy and his parents were unaware and he feared time was round and he was destine to the same old fate for all of eternity he skipped a lot of class and his grades where nowhere to be found the same his friends said of him the weeks before 'it' happened and he smoked all alone because that was his habit on the eve of the day he said in a mirror cold and dry "I'm going to kill myself tomorrow" so that night he wrote a poem and said he didn't care and this time he really meant it so he took one of his dads razors and in the morning drew a bath and took some aspirin to thin the blood and he got in the tub and laid a while then he took a sigh and said "Fuck it" one slash to two wrists vertically and that was all that it took it didn't spray, just pumped slowly and he felt like going to sleep and he knew what that meant so he let down his eye lids and with a grin that no one saw he drifted out all alone and off with the fireworks in his brain and them came the rattle and soon enough came nothing, nothing, nothing at all. -Ethan Belding
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AuthorThane Hounchell: Offensive around children, scared of cats. Archives
March 2018
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