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Here we are again, too close to be confused.
Yet distance is persistent, despite our evolution.
I speak and the void listens, and an abyss emerges.
This is new life. This is skepticism in the face of truth.
To stare intently. To grieve.
To brace the self in the face of Self.
To seize the momentum and breathe.
I let the train take me where it takes me, despite our conversation.
The poet is blind, with eyes wide... gazing.
To see you even as I fail to notice you, amazing.
Make it brief. Say what must be spoken.
Nourish your soul and grow.
To notice you when I fail to see you.
We attach to the ephemeral, and break apart when death comes.
We adopt stasis; our children are Fear.
And death comes, an X next to an empty line.
We sign. We sign.