Distance Over Time: Part Eight

Distance Over Time

 Part Eight

The end of the world came and went. I hardly noticed.

The dead collected their stories and I listened.

We grew our hunger from small seeds. We painted the windows in broken questions.

I came to resent the math that had built my  machine. Still the numbers persisted.

We became small in the distance that separated. We tore the paper and were left without skin.

Our lazy sun choked on our orbit. Our arrogant planet fell from its gravity.

All that was left was empty space.

I couldn’t find. Didn’t want to.

I could see the choices that had made us.

Smaller than they had ever been.

I could slip inside the monsters and wear them.

And see exactly when we’d lost our way.