and I feel as if the pain should be mine. A sort of Jealousy of pain. I hate the unfairness that lies in chance, the imense contrast in life is devastating. And I watch as a friend becomes a fatherless statistic ..and I watch as I know I could.. or I would handle it rather than him. Blood. Brutal gashes across the miles of infinite life force on the seat of his head.. and the self is gone, and my pain is not for him.. what pain does he have. It is his family, the ones still existing. Torn is the word I would describe myself as. Seething is another with out exact definitions. Furious, calapsing, relapsing, cursing, killing, wishing, and coping. With death.

Oh when will it happen to me. When I think that I release my "envy"

---

My face is stained with dismay
and my eyes curtle with a foriegn liquid
That I did not know him
He was not my father but my mother is married to him
he was not my father but my brothers father
and my little brothers father too
as for the kids God
as for the kids
what are they to do

I fear for the one not grown and on his own
the one with life to live
that he has no father
if I have no father
this is what life has gift

Tomorrow I will confront death
I will look him in his dead eyes
I will curse the way he lived
and wish an existence away