we're here. aren't we? or we were at least. days or a lifetime ago. gossamer thoughts on whispers of strings. the hours smaller than we imagined. the minutes shy and quiet.
i couldn't love you, even if i wanted to. which i don't. i can't prove you're wrong. but i know it.
everything is wrong. so why not this.
the darkness stumbles. the emperor counts his threads. we're exposed.
i'd say i love you, but i wouldn't want to waste the words.
the distance becomes us. we drift. swallowed up in the spectacle of our want. deflated by the repetition of our grief.
there's no evolution. no discernible changes. we are stagnant. empty pages devoid of ink.
those seldom monsters draw their maps under the skin. those stubborn suns pretend it isn't raining.
Friday
7/19/2019 12:01:00 AM
| Life Poems |