Another day has come
Has gone.
Has past
Like a miscarriage.
I end before I even have begun.
I'm like a failed sperm,
Still whizzing
Like a spinning top
Slowing down -
Time lost in the deceleration.
Life lost - for life is Waiting.
Each minute is a circle
On the clock hung on the wall saying
"Adam. You are getting old. 16 soon, big boy!"
Nothing is happening
Except in my head.
I hate it,
But I don't know what else the clock
Could have
said.
My mileage is getting too high
For my stock.
I need some fuel,
Or even with hope,
I will drop dead
On the floor.
And at my funeral, they will say...
"Adam. He was so young.
Still only a child
With no meaning in his life.
What could possibly have been wrong?"
And on my gravestone I will request it to say
"Adam. 192 months of zombiness old.
Deceased.
Fell twelve stories out of the ground
Due to a lack of gravity."
Or maybe burned to death:
A fatal accident
Where nothing safe was available
To ignite him.
But first, maybe I'll knock up some girl.
So that someone else can have a chance
To use what I had.
And I can live vicariously through this child from heaven,
Like I lived vicariously through my future self.
But maybe I will light a fire in her soul as well,
And she will love me;
And that will make everything go wrong.
Oh how I wish that would be.
Destroy
This false life of mine until,
Until,
It's gone!
And replaced with the sunrise.
And mother, because that could happen.
I won't leave you to rot like I rotted.
And only because I know what lonely old age is like,
I don't think you deserve it.
So, for now, I'll stay. But don't be upset when I fly away
From this failed pregnancy.
That's right. I'll finally spread my wings,
A virgin -
I just hope.
