Author S. K. Nicholas

They say there’s a cloud of chemicals travelling to the Milky Way. In thirty million years it will hit us. I say ‘us’, but by then there will be no traces of ‘us’ left. Everything we ever were and everything we hoped to be will have long been erased. As a species, we will be an echo lost in an ocean of night for the universe will have swallowed us without so much as an afterthought. It’s so sad that it makes me want to curl up and cry at the foot of your bed. It makes me think of how beautiful you are, and the thought of you not existing just doesn’t seem fair. The rest can go, but not you. The day you fall, is the day I fall. I watched a bull tear open the abdomen of a horse. Continuing to run, it wasn’t long before the horses intestines fell out. Collapsing shortly after, it bled to death as the crowd roared. It made me sad, but suffering is so prevalent there’s just no point in shedding any tears. That such beauty has been given a chance to exist is heavenly, but all of us will meet our end, and when that moment comes, what becomes of our journey? In the vastness of space, the frenzy of mankind is but a pinprick. In the face of God, our footprints are as meaningless as flotsam and jetsam. We are breathtaking, and yet with every passing day, we fall further from grace. To be in your arms beneath a full moon; to see my reflection in the whites of your eyes. Life is a losing card, and only fools would try to deny it. We are fading from birth, and no amount of success is going to save these hearts from unbecoming. Every memory of you is overshadowed by the void that keeps whispering my name. We are doomed to failure. We are children of no one. Hold me. Hold me until only our bones remain.