Heaven Knows What

Heaven Knows What ★★★★★

Someday, I'll write about this "film."
Someday, I'll write an actual review;
a long, and hopefully well constructed one,
voicing my thoughts on its replication of reality.
For now though, it's much too raw, much too close of a memory.
I never thought that I would actually see my friends again:
the ones who died, the ones who I lost to chemicals,
to impulsivity,
to dependence,
to attempts at escape.
Never knowing what they were risking,
the hurt they would cause,
the sadness that would spawn from their whitening faces,
their lack of blood flow, their ends.
Heaven knows what?
Heaven knows nothing.
This "film" is no film at all.
It's a mirror, and I want to break it,
so that I never have to look into it again.
Never see their faces or hear their shouts,
their reminders of what is black and can never be fought.

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