Chains

Here at the chains of the world, the bonds that hold existence intact, you see everything. Everything becomes clear. You see the stars growing and shrinking as they draw ever nearer to their eventual collapse. You see the gases moving between nurseries. You see the rocks hurtling through the void, and clinging to them in earnest, the races, with their wars, their treaties. You can see the hate, the love, the loss. You see, and you understand.

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Final Lover

Gosh, I wrote some dark stuff in high school. This was another thing I wrote while we were studying The Road  by Cormac McCarthy. 

 Final Lover

I hang above her and I stand beside her, silent and patient.

When the world burned there was no shortage of companions for me. But where now is the sport? I drift above everything, everyone, and every minute I take a new lover into sweet oblivion with me. They think to resist me, mostly, but they all come eventually.

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