When I get in these moods
I find so much beauty in decay
there is romance round every corner
in boarded up windows
in smoke rising from burning buildings
in flickering florescent light bulbs of gas station bathrooms

when will I realize, my life is not a ******* film,
a gathering of beautiful moments
be they of joy
or that of decay
no, it contains all bits of time
dark and sorrowful
thrilling and story worthy
tedious and boring
but more often than not, lacking beauty of any sort

but it is so very much like me
to focus exclusively on small details
rather than acknowledge the levity of the entire situation
how it weighs on myself
how it weighs on others

because a family once lived behind those boarded up windows,
before being served an eviction notice
and someone's grandmother's photos were lost in that fire
and the needle in the trash of that bathroom is someone's last and only reprieve from this life