remnants

teach me how to breathe again when doomsday comes

it is around the corner, halfway across the surface of the world

and when it comes, my lungs will constrict; they will fail me

~

please, teach me not to fail wholeheartedly

teach me how to stomach staying in the moment

five senses skill—ready, go

make me breathe in and out, deep and slow

brainwash me with your pretty words

walk me like a dog

hypnotize me with your normalcy

immortalize me with your goodness

show me where to go, what to do,

where to eat, where to sleep, where to piss,

where to cry, where to numb my bones

wherever I must go to survive, take me there

take me away; take me all the way,

and I will follow

~

guide me through this time like a child,

though the school year is over and long gone;

the bell rang out a final time

years ago, and everything went stagnant

and the screen turned to black;

I can still hear the static

distract me from the fuzzy, devastating reality

where memories and feelings collide

and maim and kill before they disappear,

only to reappear when we catch our breath

to torture our minds and feast on our hearts

~

it is only a matter of time before doomsday—

it is only a breath away

and after one doomsday comes the next

and the next

and

the

next

until we are remnants

of ourselves

~

when the unspeakable happens,

what else can we do but follow?

we stumble down our paths as we always have,

kicking rocks, heavy-hearted, still breathing

the same, but changed forevermore

in these times, what is there to learn?

what else in this life is here to be taught

besides all the things that truly matter,

the nameless, faceless things without comprehensible answers?

oh, these solutionless times

these life-altering moments

that seem to come and go as simply

as a warm breeze on a spring day

in the times of old,

where the wind whipped in our faces,

when we had it all and knew none of it