They say we all die twice. The day we expire. And the day the last person who really knew us, says our name for the last time. Though I am but a single servant of fate in the most insignificant of ways, I strive to love what I can in this world of so few decent moments. I try to be true in the midst of our cosmic riptide that brought me to the edge of my own free breath. My time is but a instant. Here or there in this world of never ending time, I no longer believe in a linear existence. I am born and dead and young and old all within my own single space. Life is hard to comprehend when the squeeze of a trigger ends a life and even the truest form of love doesn't survive a fortnight. With this epiphany, I strive to only be a shadow because without acknowledgement of self, I neither live nor die. I am but spectral observer, budding anew at end of all things.

We were drowning
So rapidly
That night

I have to remember
That I don't merely need
Your kisses to breathe

It's never okay to say
Something
After you
Is it?

You let your words
Run out of you
Painted navy
And black
With some ignorance
Taint the clarity
Of oxygen

Cutting our lungs
When we try to breathe

When I say
It's not okay
You crowd me
Trying to force my ideas to surrender
Tortured by claustrophobia

Your Hate is a blanket
It's not the same
But I should let you
Get away with it
Shouldn't I?

It doesn't feel okay
My conscience gasps
And shudders
With what is left
Of my soul

But it has to be

You keep swearing
That the world is false

But if you are honest
And so am I
How can it
All be a lie?