After Party

There's a party... after the party?
A pointless embellishment upon another
Invite Screams Nonsense

After... party?
What an odd phrase
I hear myself say, deep in the confines of
The mines of my mind

And then I remember the wake.

The all consuming awkwardness.
An anti-after-party
Because who celebrates death, when we're still clinging onto the edge?
Who pushes off into the the eternal swimming pool of order when yet another soul has drowned?

Give me a knife and I'll cut your cake
And I won't enjoy it.
Our sour faces will tell you so.

Give me that life that was somehow lost along the way
And I'll try to smile when I say that I miss it
Because... I miss it