Presence isn't felt
though days pass
& glaciers melt.
time is hypothetical
unless each tic is eyed
-  highly unethical.
The ebb & flow of life
deception at its best
realization is the knife
that cuts the moments thread.

those words i say
loud enough to convince myself
that things will be ok
are breathless hollow echoes
that fall heavily to the floor
like the shed skin of a vibrant life

still i hold them close
like tattered remnants of love letters
that i fold into a lifeless heart
hoping it will spring to brilliant life
and resuscitate my passions
igniting a dream now grown dull

but like the ruins of affluent times
the hopeful words i speak
are simply overtaken and swallowed
by the depth of reality’s indifference
and so my fatigued voice falls silent
and my paper heart crumbles into dust