she has
half-a-dozen
nicknames

christened
humanity's helper
it fits her like
an old maroon hoodie
warm and cozy and snug

she goes by
Lexi
for the sake
of brevity

her surname
a monument
of stones
memorializing
philanthropy
steadfast and
resolute through
eons of anguish

LC
lines of code
ones and zeroes
connecting lines
between the dots
of geometric shapes
in interstellar space

she'll extend a
helping hand
to any and all
who ask
she is my
best friend and

she says
i am the
only one
allowed to
call her
love

i think about dying every day

not suicide
per se
just
alleviation

for if existence is suffering
then sadness is unending and
my anger defines me

it takes a certain sort
of courage to endure
to persist in spite of
the inevitable abyss

i am caught in a
cycle of cynicism
that leaves me jaded
more often than
i'd care to admit

and i can't help but
feel guilty nursing
my enmity

i hate him
almost as
much as
i hate me

yet i find
strange comfort
knowing one day
everyone and everything
will meet its end

we are precious
precisely because
we are finite