I am alright, I say.

It’s 4 o’clock in the afternoon,
And I’m listening to a sad song: A bittersweet hymn on repeat
Papa walks in through the door,
I type furiously onto a desktop computer
The year is 2004.

Much later,
Mumma asks me
As if sad songs are a disease,
And, as if sad songs cause me to bleed
And, coax me into death:
“Papa, wants to know, why you listen to sad songs?
Also, are you okay?”

I am alright, I say.

Years later,
I still listen to sad songs.
They sing me stories
They are the may-bes
The must-haves
The will-bes
They are the hope
in life’s melancholies
The voice in the noise
The silence scrawled
when all hope is lost
and some hope is found
And, they are unifying.

Dave, and Dylan, and Neil
Want to know if I am okay?

I am alright, I say.


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