the pelted stone shatters the windshield
but doesn't break it.
we do not have a car.
the stone isn't ours either.
we are the fragments caught
in the web of cracks
separated from each other
by our blindness of the broken whole.
i'm going to die in a lonely quiet.
your pain is going to make the noise
around which your life will orbit.
at your worst you're surrounded by the best people.
at my worst i'm suffocated by the worst person: me.
prayer would be another stone
which would break us completely
and let in all the air and the rain.
~ ajay
24/3/2024
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ways of slowly dying ~ poetry
Poetry"life is slow dying. so are their separate ways of building, benediction, measuring love and money ways of slowly dying." ~ philip larkin
