Walking down the street, looking at the feet.
Averting connection, avoiding intervention.
Hurting, in pain, voicing in vain.
Knowing nothing, afraid of everything.
Kindness unnoticed, a sole ephemerist.
Invisible, invincible, obtrusive, and miscible.
The forgotten truth that came with youth
Gone, gone, gone at the break of dawn.
What’s left is a list of analyses.
Algorithm to carnivorism.
If I could talk to the younger me,
I would balk at a plea.
Why I am the way I am.
Collecting creativity, relation, and cognition. Luck, lust, and life.
2 thoughts on “an ephemerist”
Im not sure I would want to talk to the younger me 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person