These days bleed,
into the next
and the cloud
of frenzied voices
rings out
amongst the deafening chaos
of the end.
Here it is
and then it’s gone,
fast squeals
of car tires
in the distance
where you will be
in a lightning flash,
where this precipice
will no longer be waiting
but will be gone,
and you’re falling,
piece by piece,
you’re collecting images
of who you’re becoming
until it’s not so new,
until it’s all but fantastic,
and you’re finally living
in this sticky place
we call life.

* * *

My seniors leave me in a week and I’m melancholy with the bittersweet goodbye. Here is something inspired by that feeling. I always struggle to be inspirational, and it never turns out happy enough. Oh well. I still like it. Hope you do too!



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