It’s there for what seems like an infinite series of motions and movements
and lifetimes and then you blink and the moment is lost.
Gone
for all eternity.
A place you will always call home,
torn away like a crying infant
left in a basket on a cold sidewalk
covered in mildew.
The person you swore you knew, swore you loved infinitely,
only to change mere moments later.
The rest of my life, he will be just out of my reach.
You’re standing next to me in that loud room and for a second
I swear I see our fleeting weekends flash with your infectious smile
but the moment passed
and I breathe.
Breathe.
I took a knife to my insides
forcing out the poison I fed myself, the lies I said for mere comfort.
This and that and you and me and us and them will last forever
I will always be here
I will never grow old and forget and sit in my own shit and die alone in bed of a cold I couldn’t shake
Infinities don’t last,
but
I guess some infinities are bigger than other infinities.
But nothing is certain.