time is a weapon. full of sharp edges. the more we press against it the deeper it cuts.
the buttons open. we're exposed. we scramble for the colors, but the gray is all that's left.
the body has its metrics. that time comes to collect. we're fooled by the corners. even as we turn them, there's still no exit.
we chew on the lies. as the truth leaves us famished.
a paradox of causality. as our intentions unravel.
everything is small. except the distance. as we tear at the maps that leave us lost.
we lose our grip on our grief .everything falls. and all our choices shatter.
Saturday
2/27/2021 11:48:00 PM
| Life Poems |