The Sunset

I hate the sunset It took my day away “That’s God.” It’s the ugliest moment of these twenty-four hours I let every day through my fingers Trying to hold onto water Gripping water as tightly as possible The sunset again It takes my day away The sunset took away every summer day that I needed It took away every Halloween day Halloween day when I have chills rushing through me for Halloween night I fucking hate the sunset I’m head to toe covered in grains of beach sand We have our radio I won’t go in the water again even though my mom is begging me saying come oooon But I’m having a blast building fortresses with the sand I tell her I’ll watch And she wades into the silver water Like a methane and ethane ocean rippling around her And she drops herself down and leaps back up with the wave that shoves her I look up, too far, and I have to look down and there is my sun because back when I was a kid it was my sun. Everything was mine The sun is low You want to set and I want the day to go on The sun is no friend because the sun sets over that beach and we pack up the car under the water colored sky, all purples and pinks and blood oranges and it’s so ugly It took my day away The high tide tore down my fortresses like a mini-Atlantis and I am the God King because I have all the answers, because everything is mine and I have all the knowledge I just actually did feel like I had all the knowledge Do I know everything that’s ever happened I can see every life ever lived and will live all at once Maybe this is schizophrenia My eyes are instantly tired, I am seeing too much. I type the words but it’s out of focus because of how much I am seeing I see so much love, an unfortunate amount of brutality, lots of pets, rocking chairs, men climbing Everest, men climbing that massive mountain in China—I can’t remember the name. I just saw a boy on a sled come directly at me and vanish with a puff of brown and gold dust today I have done nothing but write this The sunset is not beautiful