as soon as we're born, we start dying.
the moments of our life tick tock off a clock
bigger than you or i could imagine.
the speed at which our death comes,
well there's too many factors to factor in.
there isn't an algebra equation big enough
or mathematician smart enough
to even begin to calculate
the exact moment, the exact reason
of when we will leave this place
and go wherever we may go.
we're not all going to suffer the same demise.
some of us will go naturally, others horrifically,
and a few of us, another word that ends in ly.
today,
today, i'm dying more than i did yesterday.
i'm not dying faster in the sense
i'm taking the matters into my own hands,
like speeding excessively on the highway
or trapping myself in every dark alley i find.
i'm not dying like my grandfather who had cancer,
having one, if not more, of my vital organs eaten alive
and finding out just days before it's too late.
but in the greatest sense, i am.
because i have cancer of my soul.
my heart is hollow and my head is full of doubts
and emptiness aches more than a stubbed toe.
my emotions and feelings have been tied in knots
and have cysts the size of meteors
waiting to crash land on what's left of any grip
i think i have left, anything that's hanging by a thread,
causing the next ice age or complete extinction.
there are no cures or over-the-counter medicines.
there is no solace to be found or way to ease the pain
unless someone is willing to help you do so.
and i've been waiting along time for that someone.
