whatever
happens happens
you tell yourself it's almost over
a bit like reassuring the dead
there's not enough of you left
as skins collected over lifetimes are shed
to care whatever happens happens
you scream cry and spin then zen
you wish this perpetual night to end
petition directors behind the scenes
find closure renounce cringeworthy dreams
or somehow hold on blind with faith
not cave in to despair but breathe
shift gears mitigate
in the fullness of the promise
and give up the delusion to live
and walk with freedom of purpose
each precious moment as your last
whatever happens
happens
YOU ARE READING
Express, baggage and all...
PoetryObjects in the mirror are closer than they appear... Just when you think you've put something behind you for good, you look back and find it trails you like your very own comet's tail, lighting a path through the dark. Reading through these pages...
