is it a demographic feeling,
is it worldwide?
am I alone?

and my nightly delusions are all going to waste,
they're rusting and greying
with the realization
that I'm out of time.

the things I thought
lines from songs and little papers
crumpled up in your fist.
gone.

the yellow of an old day,
a new day,
one without anticipation.

you are going to die alone.
take your advice from a poem
and set it out like you're
dressing the table for dinner.

chains are made to be broken.
lives are made to be changed.
it doesn't matter what you think,
these things are false.

nothing is made to be anything.

hope is false as well
and we borrow mountains
to hide ourselves behind.

living in the shadow
of a decision you can't make.
there,
that's your problem.

winter is over.