I lie awake and dream,
of living forever.
The impending end suspends
It smells like cheap cologne
Smoking up the air


Sleeping visions fall apart.
I am swallowed by the ink black vacuum in the space behind my eye-lids.
Clear and vivid and full of nothing.
Fourth walls folding in on themselves in vague near lucidity.

I used to dream of dying suddenly as my body got ready to wake me.
Lately Ive been dreaming of the end of time.
Of immortals in a dying reality
Of lone figures running out of matter to be made of,
A bitter goodbye at the heat death of the universe.
Even there,
At the summit of existence,
I watch and weep for a few minutes longer

A single street light flickering and the crackle of a forgotten record playing.
The lanterns pale glow only reaching so far.
Where the light fades the world falls off the edge.
Film projected onto unseen walls, light through smoke.
The air is still.
There is no air.
There is no one.

As the expanse of space gets abstractly smaller,
The walls close in,
I try capture the end of infinity,
My quickening pulse pulls me from my dying dream.
There is no fear
Only rapid grief,
I imagine this is what it feels like to die.
Forever is not long enough.

I lie awake and stare into the dark corners of my vision,
Until the shadows warp and lean inwards,
Until my eyes are covered in ink spots and negative space.
Until the world disappears.
And I disappear.
And I forget about living, so I might forget about death.

I dream of being infinite,
and it is still not enough.