Bon IverĀ || re:Stacks
I think the worst feeling is being a stranger to someone who used to mean the world to you.
This is a poem of commas,
How lonely they would be,
If not for words
Unable to stand on their own.
Dependent clauses,
Sighing a wondrous sigh,
As they can continue to go on,
All for the comma,
,
What if the words stopped
To a point
So straightforward
Commas with no need to be
,
Everything ends.
Commas are the marvelous break
Where the silence
Sings to the sound
And continues on.
,
It doesn’t end,
Memories are all we have left.
But what happens when those fade? Will we then truly be…nothing?