It is hard to say much about things in general.
I will not say anything about politics.
I don't sleep in the mornings
It has been a long time since I slept
at peace like you
Sometimes it is better,
sometimes worse
Now it is worse
My days do not go by one mimicking the next.
There should be a rhythm to them,
but it is a jazz rhythm
it appears chaotic
though i know a pattern is hiding
if i can just see past the individual days
the noise, loneliness, longing
building to a crescendo
I like to think it ends with recognition
But i know that it ends in darkness
I will not get to see it
even if it is there
perhaps i will hear it
i like to think it ends with you,
i lie to myself
to give it meaning
it ends in death alone
perhaps death, alone
I thought about the multiple ways
that you can look at endothermic and exothermic
It woke me up
insisting I write it out
telling me
you can't sleep anyway
you can't hold her
nevermore
the darkness insists
write about fire and ice
The parallels with you,
the heat, now the cold
intertwined only in our minds
Dancing away from each other
The math coming closer together
Even as we drift farther apart
the science becoming rhythmic
as we descend into chaos
No comments:
Post a Comment