If the seconds were to slowly disperse and there was no more time left to speak our truths, I would move towards you and place my lips on yours and as the atoms in our bodies separated and we became at one with the nothingness around us, this version of me would surely die with a smile on its face knowing that everything is as it should be. But go back a bit. Put my atoms together again and let me stand there before you. Let me hold your hand and let the magic of our fleeting days make the kisses we share become as sacred as the name and nature of God. Give me beer and wine and junk food. Give me the finest rolled cigarettes known to man and then wash my hair and towel it dry while looking in my eyes telling me I’m the only one you’ll ever need even though I’m a loser and have nothing to offer save for the fucked up dreams in my fucked up head and what’s left of the wistful love in my shrinking and crushed little heart that constantly bleeds because I can’t help but cut it in an effort to feel something other than nothing. My confusion and these illusions. My inertia and these mountainous thoughts that raise me up then crush me beneath their vengeful weight. From this transient kiss that’s as light as a feather to the heaviness of heaven as it sits on my chest breaking my ribs as if they were twigs, there’s rhythm and there’s speed and there’s belief and the need to remain like a nail while others collapse like weeds. And weeds they are in gardens as neglected as their hollow and pointless souls. Just skulls floating through space. Just bones without homes. Just people as copies as shadows as dust as half-remembered memories lurking in those empty parking lots the likes of which will forever escape us the morning after all those nights before. So hold me. Hold me close and I’ll keep you safe as these seconds turn to light years and with one final glance behind us, we wave goodbye to all that we used to know.
Author S. K. Nicholas 
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