I will start again.
I will look into the mirror and I will see a man who is proud of what he is.
He will be worn out and dying. That’s because he’s been holding back time. He needs it.
I will write a song.
I will pen the melody she always wanted to hear.
She will be empty from the overflow. I will still be in Chaos. I need it.
I will have a girl. I will name her Aurora.
She will be hated and loved, as her father was, but in a good way. She needs it.
I will forget what I was supposed to get from the supermarket.
I will get all the wrong things.
She will despise me. Nothing new. Everything counts in large amounts.
I will ask you to stop telling lies about me. I will stop telling the truth about you.
I will forgive. I won’t forget.
My only companion will be an ashtray.
At least it won’t complain as I read out my poetry. I’m complacent.
I will listen to Lou Reed on vinyl, when vinyl is long gone.
I will feel old, older than I should. I will listen. I will remember.
I will get on the wrong train leading to the right destination.
I will not part with Chaos. I still need it.
I will fade to grey.
I will become my grandfather.
I will walk the dog, aimlessly through the city.
I will take him to a shelter, and leave him there. Good boy, stay here, be happy as you would have been if I was younger.
I will go to the cemetery to visit my family.
I will stay with them.