We all die. There is no escaping the simple fact that life, as beautiful and filled with wonders as it is, is meaningless. Earth. A spinning ball of life and light, so free as a vision, yet we suppress these things. Let's build a house that will stand for three hundred years, when I will be here for a fraction of it's existence. Let's build a city around this house, and grow. But for what? You can work so hard for an accomplishment based on personal ideals, but it will be torn down and replaced with someone else's thoughts. We are cattle. To ourselves. We wait in a line of jealousy, pointing red fingers to the pure ones, and the pure ones turn impure. We mill around as if there is a purpose. We create, we sing we write we love we laugh we cry we grow, and we die. A lifetime of, anything, cut down because there is no because. There is no answer. There is no divine entity who overlooks us. There is no afterlife, resurrection, free floating energy, or cells that live on. There is eternal unconsciousness. Nothing. Black, or white or grey, or nothing. And we'll never know. We live in a space so small compared to the rest of everything out there. Past our planet, somewhere in the farthest reaches of the universe(es), there is life, bounding and free, true beings, maybe like us. Maybe they looks similar, and feel the same emotions. Maybe their emotions are different. Maybe their technology surpasses ours. Maybe they are primitive, waiting to learn. Maybe they are us, in the past. The sad, simple fact is that we will never know. We continue to spiral towards our own self afflicted demise, unknowing, selfish. All the wonders of discovery beyond us is lost in the folds of envy and anger. And our own natural timeline. You will die. Your family will die. Everyone you know will die, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing you can do to stop this change. We write poetry to staunch a certain emotion, or maybe to bring rise to one that we favor, but this is all nothing. Who cares about how your friend died, or how I broke up with someone, or how cute your cat is, or what boat you sailed on? It's pointless. Words only help to reflect the pointlessness of it all. We give voice to the sheer depression. Life is not a game, or a puzzle, nor is it an answerable question. It is, and always will be nothing in the end. I write to drain myself, to remind myself that I am in fact, a breathing, living human being, for the time. I write for the nostalgia of futility. For the embrace of hopelessness. Why do you write? Tell me, why bother?

Everything is temporary
Starting with a moment
A memory lasts a lfetime
A lifetime is stunted
A childhood
A garden
Laughter soon forgotten
Tears are for a little while
& gone in the morning
A friendly smile
A secret whisper
Your lovers warm embrace
The darkness of night
The sweet smell of rain
Don't blink for you might miss
The temporary enjoyment
Of the sunshine on your face
Or the rivers current
A stroll among the fields
A bite of something juicy
The only love you'll ever know
So hold on loosely
All is so temporary
Treat your life with care
Stop and smell the flowers
Let them know you're there

Tears well up in my throat
(acid worn)
I don’t want to move so I
Pretend
To stay asleep

The best I’ve ever had
Lies only inches from my heart
(irregularly beating)

His voice had a different tone
To it, this time
I swear it was a different frequency
This time it was sincere.
Defeated.

He kept laughing
Nervously
Almost apologetically
And I don’t remember ever
Seeing him so destroyed.

This time
There was no snow on the road
But I awoke to find my body
Frozen solid.

He did it, He's gone,

He left and moved on.

I wish he could see,

I am still able to be,

The one that he loves,

I can still rise above,

I can be his always,

I would forever stay,

Gently in his arms,

Doing him no harm,

I'm his now and forever,

Forever and always.



But no.

He does not want that,

He does not want me,

I'm so very scared,

That I will always be,

The one with no love,

Because nothing I do,

Will ever change,

How I feel about you,

How can I move on,

If you've done me no wrong?



But wait.

He has done me wrong,

I know that he has,

One day he loved me,

Hated me the same,

I had no clue what to do,

I was going insane.

He caressed me,

Then left me,

He left me in pain.



That.

That is what he did wrong,

And so I will become strong,

Stronger than he,

Ever knew I could be.



And so.

So he will wish that he could've seen,

all the things that we could've been,

The beauty I would have shared,

Because I would have cared,

To forever be his,

And him forever be mine,

Together forever

with our spirits entwined.



But no.

He's lost out on that chance,

I really don't care to dance that dance,

The dance full of pain,

And regret, and sorrow,

As I ponder if there will be a tomorrow,



For us.

As I wonder how I could hold on,

As I hold us together,

Praying I'll be strong,

It never worked, I never was,

It just looked like it all because,

I became, nothing but a shell,

And my life, a living hell.



It was.

Can't you see?

All that you did,

It all hurt me?

If only I hadn't been so blind,

To think you were so kind,

To believe that your heart,

Had no bad part,

To it.



I was.

It's not all your fault,

I was naive,

I was naive to believe,

That it could last,

I needed a lesson from the past,

Nobody stays,

Not even one,

Even if love has truly begun,



To sprout.

To grow like a flower,

Beauty with power,

Enough to change a heart of stone.



But remember.

Rain will strengthen a flower,

But a storm will destroy it,

It will wilt,

Falling back down,

Into the filth,

Where it began,

Never to be seen again.



And though.

It may blossom once again,

Remember it is not the same,

It is not the same flower,

And its scent may be sweeter,

Sweeter than the one before.

The smoke does not bother me
any more than
the burning flesh
The scars will heal slowly
beneath my clothes
and I will turn my head
the other way
should anyone notice the ash on my skin
or the limp in my stride
because they are the only things you have left to control me
and I will heal
and I will move on
After all, like pain
you are only temporary

The familiar weight of your head on my chest
Plus the feeling of your fingers laced between mine
Minus all the goodbye kisses pressed gently upon your lips
Multiplied by all the hours spent making out in my car at 12:00 on a school night
Sum up to equal this ache in my chest that comes with the knowledge that









this is all temporary.