Maybe things won’t be alright. Maybe no one wins this fight. Maybe there’s no silver line. Maybe everybody loses this time. You can choke on your cliches, cause there’ll be no more better days. I refuse to accept his suicide was all for the best. Save your platitudes my friend for swimming in the shallow end. Life’s a lottery of beauty and tragedy, not some predetermined test. All this pain ain’t meant to be. You just fear your empathy. See him sitting in that chair. Don’t you tell me that he’s better off there. It’s an excuse, a dismiss (a lie). It’s an arbitrary twist. Why make sense of all this pain? Sit with me, wait out the rain.