I moisturise my face

with open eyes I make the choice to focus on the time and love I’ve lost. tomorrow there is more and I can take what I want from the oxygen and hours that come with the rising sun. tomorrow is a gift that I can choose to love or loath. there is a luxury: to take for granted the safety and every comfort I’m afforded by wanting more. on my phone I watch buildings flatten and children crawl through mountains of rubble in search of their parents. I try to understand why security is not enough. in the mirror I see the lucky hypocrite for whom nothing is enough. outside the world is burning. he knows he’ll never have to face the flames and still wants more.

before bed, I moisturise my face and brush my teeth. I imagine breaking out of the body I’ve grown in forever. what would freedom feel like? every day I seem to spoil more time thinking about this assortment of bones and vital organs. the skin that houses everything I am expands and I want to be more and less than what I see in the face of my reflection. there is another luxury and I entertain thoughts I shouldn’t to make myself more miserable. with nothing real to hurt me I fear the frame I need to learn to love.

I pull words from the stream and try to make something from nothing that matters. I search for sense in empty thoughts that never meant anything all.