Living in the moments, like we know we'll die tomorrow. As if we are so sure of tomorrow, we have our words checked like chess. Our moves, each step with its **** story, loving each of the ripple we make. Living in the moments. But **** to live in the moment only to hate the future. Only to hate the stories, the ripples, making all the moves yet never being able to rook. Constant consistent outcomes on the wrong side. Never on Her side. Never. Living in the moments merely to hate the future, to loathe that I know.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 10:17 AM UTC
Living in the moments, like we know we'll die tomorrow. As if we are so sure of tomorrow, we have our words checked like chess. Our moves, each step with its **** story, loving each of the ripple we make. Living in the moments. But **** to live in the moment only to hate the future. Only to hate the stories, the ripples, making all the moves yet never being able to rook. Constant consistent outcomes on the wrong side. Never on Her side. Never. Living in the moments merely to hate the future, to loathe that I know.
Request permission to use this poem