young people
walk around
with half-lit cigarettes,
eyes like dull knives
and souls
fresh out of the oven.
they think time
is a skinny dog
they can kick,
that death
is just a story
that happens to others
on the news or in bad
2 a.m. movies.
they laugh at the old
like aging
was some disease
you choose to catch.
they walk around
chests puffed
like hearts
can’t be broken.
they think love
always comes back,
that legs
won’t ever shake,
that mothers
live forever
and friends
don’t rot from cancer
in borrowed hospital beds.
they don’t get
that this
false eternity
is just the body’s trick,
desire’s illusion,
a sick joke
youth plays
before it pulls
each feather
out by the root.
they think they’ll never be
the ones who tremble climbing stairs,
the ones who talk to themselves
at bus stops,
the ones who carry silence
like luggage
with no wheels.
but time
is a killer
in a nice suit
with all the patience in the world.
and one day,
staring into the mirror
seeing their father
in their own eyes,
they’ll remember a line
they didn’t care to read:
no one escapes.
not you.
not me.
not even the ones who dance
like the world owes them something.
eternity,
brother,
is just a rumor
we made up
so we wouldn’t
shit ourselves in fear.
About the Creator
Javier
My name is Javier, and I find inspiration in every story people share with me. From their words, poems and tales are born, written with passion,
One Unchecked Box
"Republished" because it was the only way to add the embed for the newly recorded audio version of this story due to the Top Story badge. Plus it serves as a nice, informal announcement of the podcast's revival for another season (go subscribe!):
By Stephen A. Roddewig6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Wow, this is powerful and raw! The hardest truth to swallow is that nothing lasts forever. But maybe in knowing that, we learn to hold on tighter to what really matters. ✨