#88
" surreal suicide savior complex " I'll never forget the sound of "baby," the way Stanley's voice said it to me. At my baby's memorial, I did not use mine. I did not give a speech or share any words. I could not stop crying. My brain could not understand how I was suppose to believe his body was now ashes inside an urn on a table in front of me. Nothing about that made any sense. I am not sure I even believed it happened still at that point. Writing some words down later and making a shrine of connections to this episode of The Muppet Show helped me (as backwards as it may seem) attempt to face reason, which Stanley was always much better at than me. & Stanley has come back to me in strange ways, two of which times are mentioned in the poem. Stanley became the first ghost I actually felt. Once, while Adventure Time was on the screen, and Future Islands was playing out of a boom box that I received as a Christmas gift from a Dominican student of...
