Maybe it came with the sharks.

No.

Perhaps it came with the birds.

Or

Maybe it was already here,

Already waiting for us to scrap alongside

It.

 

What it is, I don't know.

I just know that it's here.

Like the wind, like the gods,

Like the dreams in my head.

Yes,

I know that it's real,

And

I'm sure you do too.

For it is the force behind

the

bee that stung you,

the

car that hit you,

the 

dad that beat you,

the

girl that broke you.

 

It is what makes bad things happen.

It is here.

It is happy, happier than us.

And the only way to defeat it

Is to ignore it,

Is to focus on its brother,

Its brother that came with the humans,

its brother that

healed your grandmother,

found your dog,

took the gun from your temple.

 

All bad things are related to good things.

And without what makes us tick,

We would lose what makes us think.