At the end of the world, there sits a museum

 At the end of the world, there sits a museum

inside, you’ll find a history that’s rich and deep and 

full of sadness and anger and hate 

and happy memories and celebrations of heroes 

there sits a book with all the names and dates of people to remember and people who’ve already been forgotten

there are walls filled with triumphant scenes of love and of war 

there are endless boxes of music and books to sort through, there’s a need to decide what is worth holding onto and what is okay leaving behind, at the end of the world 

how did you come to find yourself here? at the end of the world there’s a mirror that asks questions you didn’t even know you had inside you, pointing out imperfect and complex emotions that twist and tangle and burn in your throat, looking for anything else to cling onto to let them out to free fall forever into a void of endangered species that cannot continue on in this lifetime 

at the end of the world, there sits a museum that is a mystery of a million stories endings. and that is where you find yourself now, and you know that

your story begins at the end of the world. 

*written April 2023