We all look the same when we're dead

I’m too worried
about everything…
down to the particles of dust
that lifelessly float through the air
as I pace, and re-pace
the labyrinth of vessels and veins
that always scream
from behind these exhausted eyes,
like I’m always looking for something
but have nothing left to find.

These days oxygen is
what smoke used to be,
but I’m still breathing
like someday it will mean more than
the pile of dirt that will be pushed
over my coffin,
but my doubt bought this pack,
the last one burning in my hand,
and didn’t have a
single drag.

We all look the same when we're dead

Nathan Emery

Joined September 2009

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