by Heather R.
Where we live, we never finish anything. It’s all done half way through, And then we drop it.
Our sentences stay incomplete And our thoughts never end. We don’t have any stories with conclusions, They're left hanging off the cliffs that were written for them.
Maybe it’s better this way? If we only make it half way And nothing ends, Does that mean it lasts forever? But eventually everything dies, unresolved.
Where I live friendships never stop, But they never progress. Left to dissolve into nothing in the upcoming years.
Strings are left hanging from clothing, Because we never made the final stitching.
Nothing is ever completed and everyone dies, With unfinished stories And unfinished resolutions, With a lot left on their tong….