Monday 3/15/2021 11:06:00 PM

we try to remember. we try to forget. such is the human paradox.

all the skin's torn pages. all the mind's empty pens. 

we gather the moments. in heavy buckets. in dusty bins. curators of our own chaos.  

 we poke at the past. with gloved fingers and sharp sticks. afraid of ourselves more than anything. 

the truth hums. a restless engine. blood its carburetor. 

the world trickles in. chance and envy in a miasma of contrition.

our bodies ignite like matchsticks. our flesh burns like candles. until we are spent and our flame is extinguished. allowing the darkness to consumes us. 

we disappear into ourselves.

arguing with the whispers of needles. 

frantically gathering all the broken threads. 

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