MoRpHiNe

I should sleep.  

The more my mind runs around, chasing its tail in circles, the more I cry. 

There isn't Morphine for this kind of pain. 

There isn't Prozac or Zoloft for this kind of sadness.  

There aren't enough hospitals for all those infected. 

This is an epidemic.  

There is a list of the dying, 

and a list of those who want to.  

There is something bleeding internally in each of us, 

but only some choose to act. 

And for some reason, 

Lone Peak reacts a substantial amount. 

What is in the air?

Is it an airborne illness we are 

all going to catch at one point?   

Is it something we get if we eat the 

cafeteria food and like it?  

It must be something, 

because I can't believe that it is nothing.  

For him, 

I can't believe that he was nothing.  

Because he wasn't.  

I roll my tongue around, 

and contemplate the tears that run

and burn into my face. 

I hope they stay there for everyone

to see, because on the 25th, 

we lost someone that I could have made smile.

That I could have joked with at Zupas.  

My mother told me that 

I can't let it affect me.  

That is like telling God 

to stop the rain.

  

And boy did it rain on the day after.

The day after tomorrow, 

everyone will go back to what they were

before he died.  

They forgot the next day.  

I cursed myself for smiling once,

but I know he wouldn't want that. 

But Death is the one being,

I am most scared to face, 

but think of more often then God. 

Does that make you worry for me? 

All of us should have worried for Bryce.

For Hunter. 

For Logan, although we resolved.  

For Terik. 

I talked to someone dear

just last night.  

"Simran, we have to change this

for the future Lone Peak kids."  

No one will survive this disease,

if things remain the same. 

So, for Death's sake.

Alter your state of mind.

Wake up to a stormy day and

see that God is crying too 

because He knows we all are. 

But this isn't about God, and we 

know that.  

This is about the Morphine

and how we need to find

quite the unique supply

for those who come after us.  

Because they will come 

with heavy minds and sterile hearts 

that contract diseases more easily

than we could have ever dreamt.  

Dear Death,

Don't let them die. 

 

 

To the ones who wish for Death to come.

Find your Morphine.