Sad Poetry: Artifacts in Flesh

the world was brown. withered and sere. it felt familiar. the empty streets. the whisper of frost in the wind. all the lonely miles that had culminated to shape the present.

still tomorrow beckoned. hungry for movement. a worm on a hook. teasing to be swallowed.

the path was familiar, but the places were foreign.

everything louder than it had ever been. all the colors knotted. the world churning around us as we stalled. Our engines depleted.

the bridges buckled. still we crossed them. the other side not as different as we had imagined.

umbrellas opening against the wind. the rain still drenching us. all the places we'd forgotten remembering us again.

embracing all the poisons that we covet. parachutes opening long after impact.

we collided. and it was as beautiful as it was hopeless.