loneliness is being in a crowded room
where no one meets your eye
sitting happily, not knowing this is what happiness is
not knowing until it departs, and in mourning
that day that was just another day,
imbued with nothing more than a normal sunrise and a few laughs
is now richly detailed with a light we didn’t apply at the time
so easy to miss the past
so easy to stand in the shadow of the monolith of the lives we’ve lived
exclaiming light has departed, when we keep ourselves in the dark
so easy to forget that now: now is its own fresh day
imbued with nothing more than a different sunrise and different laughs
we silently mourn a past no longer with us
even worse: we mourn a future whose losses we can predict and weep for
even though the pleasure we are weeping for has yet to pass
losing the pleasure of the moment
in that dark chasm of our past and future
that wrong lesson learned from Icarus’
man doomed to fear the power of the sun
when the true enemy is frigid reality
of all of us who never attempted flight
who never knew the slightest hint of the suns warm rays
who never rose above the most close objects
to see there were vistas worth flying towards
things worth being burned over
all these colors
aren’t they the same
weren’t we here before?
have we ever left?
what is it that all this is?
what is it all this is for?
here in a different season of life
the world has changed yet we are the same
the new sunrise conquered by an unknown vitality
how are we to know how to survive
how are we supposed to appreciate the beauty of a new world
when we’ve just discovered our own world
when we’ve just discovered that our own world
the only world we’ve ever know
was temporal
is gone
knowing that death will catch us all
knowing that everything we touch will decay
ourselves only fleeting splashes of light
so be it
so be it
so be it
we must make peace
we attempt to make peace
how can one ever make peace?
we are dying
death is chasing us
she is there
she is right there
life is going to leave us
we will never live again
the sweet garden of our nirvana is having its flowers picked
mother father brother lover
we will never see them again
break reality
chase that ephemeral angel
I will live forever
lie to yourself
escape in a constructed reality
you must be true to your existential song
life will always be here
change the world
death is chasing us
she is breathing, so close
she is there
she is right there
it’s gone!
that dream in my kind slumber
lavishly wrapping me in a disappeared reality
will that conversation ever happen again?
will my heart ever be so rich with emotion?
bring it back
recreate it
let’s live life again
let’s watch our favorite bits
laugh over a highlights reel
how dare it just be once
how could once ever be enough
come back here!
those who are gone, I miss you
those who are here
we must make each moment into a memory
life is disappearing
how is it that everything has already happened?
the promise of potential only slightly appeases
the sorrow of what will never happen again
and here, suddenly, a new emotion
the sadness is not that so much life is already lived
the sadness in not that death and the end is a shadow in the sky
the sadness is that now, we have invested in life
we have taken a blank canvas and began to make it beautiful
we will never make it perfect
that is not the point of life
what we will never do
is have the blank canvas again
every stroke is unrepeatable
and oh, each stroke: so beautiful
but just the once is it made
and the emotion that went into its creation
we can feel its heat from the memory of the canvas
but never again will we know the fire of its creation
those times that were here!
weren’t they just here!
just around the last corner
surely walking distance
I remember the feel of gravel
surely some is even stuck still in my shoe
how can it be that was another life ago
how can it be that I am still so ready
to finish the second half of that conversation
the words ready to spill from my tongue
the image burned in my mind
a lifetime ago feeling more vivid then this moment
a need to feel something
to again be enraptured with the passion of youth
to again confront the wonders of life for the first time
here we are
past the turmoil of becoming who we were meant to be
a completed human being
we have the capability to do anything
without the knowledge of what it is we should do
we fear our weakness, we should take the easy route
self mutilate our spiritual perfection
drag ourselves through the dirt
from the lows we’ve already experienced
we know how to ascend to this lofty perch of right here again
how much easier this, then to gaze at the endless summit
of the high peak we have yet to climb
it just gets steeper going forward
life in the end will kill us
perhaps happiness is more important then perfection
perhaps ignorance is better than shades of grey
perhaps gentle lies are better than the oft promised nirvana of truth
perhaps lies are better than truth,
why break ourselves on the door that will not open?
let’s put all these things together
form all the disparate pieces into an image
you, me, the other: what does it all mean?
what did this vast tangled web produce?
what has a life filled with so many memories created?
we are building towards a crescendo, aren’t we?
is everything not going to become magnificent in the next stanza?
can we not just sit placid here, comfortable that tomorrow will produce the reality of our daydreams?
is the difference between the real life of dreams and our present reality
is it just realizing that today, we must capture our dreams
every tomorrow will be another today
any yesterday not working for tomorrow was wasted
is today going to be a yesterday, or a tomorrow?
oh, the sweet heart screams logic
we know our weakness
we know our weakness
we know our weakness
while still another day goes by
dreaming about a tomorrow
that’s just been pushed one more day farther away from reality