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epitath

wake. no one's moving
sleep. no one's still-

exhausted vitality draws you out of the pattern,
little eraser bits.
and peices.
life keeps happening without you.
may as well
write yourself a grave with.
a pretty and apologetic epitaph and it's okay to.
lie
for everyone already knows. none of us really qualify
for pearls or for gold.
let alone.
human.
RByron418
Written by RByron418 (R Byron Johnson)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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emilyrose1995
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