one day
this will all be a memory
no one left to remember
and thoughts and memories
sink into the curtains
fade away into dust and sand
dry, brittle bones and cracking skulls
home to solitary spiders
webs of thoughts and strings of time
all just a whisper of existence
there are dead flowers on the kitchen table
gaps in the hardwood floor
all that’s left is gone and all I am is nothing
life was mine to hold
but only for a minute
passing through
and the
world
still turns.