My Love
Die
From the second I laid eyes on it, it began to die. Anarchism in life’s cycle was at its finest. If only I could have thought this up, maybe then it would’ve lasted forever. Stay pretending like this kid was immortal and he would live to see me die. I didn’t think anything serious of it; it was just a beginning, just a birth. It never hit me that this thing would grow through the thick skulls of minds and wrap around in to the deep center, sink its roots in to the esophagus and rip through your stomach – a hard thing to swallow, and a hard thing to digest, and it kept hurting me. I just didn’t think, and I let it grow. I did what came naturally – nurture, accept the independence from it. In front of me, it continued to get bigger, like a balloon. And it swelled to the point of breaking and it did. That’s when it all ended in to this little specs and pieces of rubber. It laid there on its last breathe and I couldn’t let it die with deep shallow breaths, lingering between the worlds of reality and nonexistence. Neither could I revive it when I had the chance to. I didn’t want to try anymore. It was dead.