Poem
Running in an infinite circle.
Tumbling down a hill.
Hoping i might find my way,
Before I disappear.
Someone’s first inhale
Is another’s last exhale
Everything is disposable.
Especially life.
Especially time.
Drowning against the tide of memory lane.
Fuzzy muted faces zipping by
Sometimes words don’t matter
All that’s left are emotions
Of feelings
Uprooted like trees during a violent storm.
Try climbing to the surface
Reaching for connection
That isn’t even there.