parallel
you and I are so alike
skilled at crafting melodramas
rich with cynicism
weaving tales
laden with misplaced guilt
you and I are comforted
by our own charm
until the lights dim
the quiet rolls in
and the party’s over
do you go where I go
in the lulls between songs
in the moments before sleep
shouting to the gods
how dare you and I’m sorry
you can choose now
not to be the villain
in every story
you don’t have to
wither away
next to me
in the dark
my daughter,
please,
turn on the light
