A thousand ways to waste your life

And mine is the fear of lost health.

An attempt to creep closer towards life, to feel and to understand, to relinquish in its essence,

Only to be followed by the certainty of its evaporisation.

How silly I am.

I say to them.

To those, whom I cannot touch, cannot meet; neither in soul or in presence.

To build a connection from far away.

Oh what does it matter

(I tell myself with swallowed sorrow)

Closed chapter, next story

Chasing fantasies until the pages run out –

Fearfully, I chop wood to turn them into pages,

Adding them with the prayer of being able to read the part of the story where perspectives meet …

Before the last tree has fallen.

Maybe my next chapter needs to be about planting trees.

And some underwater breathing

to begin seeing which bubbles are the one to offer meaning and which ones are pleasing to burst.

~ written by Michelle B.