senescence.

i remember

when the days were strange

and so were we

when we played with knives

and struggled for every wish

our lives were filled with danger

and our hearts with fire

we searched for each other

for the same passion in our eyes

our youth was perfectly ugly

i remember.

in many ways

i’m still the same man

but in many ways

i’m not

now

wanting hurts twice as much

because i'm not sure what i want anymore

and love is reserved

only for dreams

and even still

it is painful

perhaps it’s all the failure

or that getting older

for me

means letting go

suffering alone

and becoming numb

or maybe it’s just

the mood i find myself in

when i remember

...

arithmetic.

the angels and demons

are the same

fighting for the innocence

of being right

belief based on

circumstance

they’re all guilty

friction creates energy

creates the passing of time

so that nothing is ever

exactly the same

the balance is always off

nothing is level

the message is never clear

the frustration

of all the same

unanswered questions

that mean nothing

over and over again

draw endless circles

in my mind

i’m sure that somehow

it all makes sense

and that the math is right

i’m just not getting it

...