what becomes of you after realizing you exsist in a world thats trying to survive itself? In moments of full agency what does the body, mind and spirit choose to do? At your best, what will become of you. Swishing around a question in my mouth, soon resting between my gum and cheek, eventually i spit it out.
After all this time, what is there left to prove?
I knew I hadn't met my match
With every moment we could snatch
I don't know why I let myself get so attached
It's my responsibility
And you don't owe nothing to me
But to cut myself off I had no capacity
… He walks away
The sun goes down
He takes the day but I'm grown
And in your grey
In this cool shade
My tears dry on their own