The beeping becomes
Too much sometimes.
It reverberates in his ears
Long after the tubes have been
Unplugged
Long after he's free of these
Bland, white walls.
It’s always there,
It's always in his ears,
Ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing;
Sometimes so frequently that he's afraid
He's contracted some
Unheard-of ear cancer.
Truth of the matter is this:
He has too many secrets to tell
and too little time for them all.
He has too many places to be
And too little time for them all.
He has too many people to meet and touch and hate
And yes, too little time for them all.
Margo tells him that when
His stoic heart finally freezes over,
When his fragile bones crumble and
Suspend into the ground
His cartoon soul will subsist
In a far more beautiful place
And I won't have to worry about time
And time won't have to matter
Because the beauty will be so heartbreaking
That it will be enough to
Sustain him for
An eternity.
I hope this is true.
Please let Margo be right.
Please let it be true.
