you live you live you live
and the world turns because you live, and that’s unfortunate, isn’t it,but that’s beautiful, isnt it,because the first 2 years it’s not worth it because the sorrow slinks into the corners like cockroaches, because all this work adds up to nothing but in year three you tell a story and everybody laughs at it, and you think: i made it, i made itand you live, and you go skinny dipping and you go and get that tatttoo you’ve been wanting and you go and cross things off your list because it matters,doesn’t itit matters because you dreamed it and even though sometimes (often)you wake up empty of it,you still wake up and do it, still wake up and survive it in a way that doesn’t make it feel good,just like a forced kissyou also wake up and feel love in every portion of your bones now,a flash like a river of love now, a survivalthat feels like love nowand you live, and you live, and you live,and god, isn’t thatexcellent.
