dirge for a metallic earth (preface)
the land is gone // only steel remains (part 1)
there are moments from ages 14 to 17 that/
Have faded from a blur…
…to brief flashes.
I’m on my bike/
zooming down Adeline/
And as a *flash*
I’ll be whisked back/
To shouting and threats and “you’re no child of mine”/
But then “why don’t you call more”/
and “im so alone, youssef”.
I hear Never Ending “you son of a bitch” and smashing clocks on his head/
I can never forget the pained shrieks/
and the “this is your fault”/
But then “please come home. i miss you.”/
What remains of our bountiful forbear? // they were torn to shreds // the land was burnt (part 2)
At 23 I still hear ringing in my ears from when I couldn’t sleep because of frantic shouting/
But I still get phone calls while at work asking “do you not care about your family”/
I drown it all in Deafheaven and Merzbow and endless white noise/
It is never enough.
I wander this land/
Only hearing ghosts/
I shout back “why can’t you leave me alone”/
And I fall, tears flowing forth. What else is there.
The ghosts say “we’re your family”
What remains? // Ash. and tears. and screams when nothing else exists. and a voice that will never leave. (part 3)
ps. fathers are trash