oh to be alive. to make shrines to dionysus and dance in the firelight. to watch bugs crawl on the wall and feel the guilt of peace.  the silence. the unfairness. the shame of feeling, the shame of being. the papers and the fleeing and the burning and the drowning. the I was once you, but now I’m not. the raw black garbage seeping through skin and the paralyzing weight of being seen. the permission given, permission taken. the rituals of humiliation. the emptying and the grasping. the craving for touch, invisibility, hating and needing. the gatherings, the poetry, the sacrifices, the beauty. the absurdity of tragedy. the impermanence. the lightness. the certainty. the will I ever see you again. the I’m not okay. the I’ll never be okay. the acceptance. the sinking. the darkness. the nothing.