The great demise of humanity will not arise from nuclear genocide, mass uprisings among the poor and forgotten, nor from famine, disease, extreme sadness, nor extreme happiness. The great demise of humanity will arise from nothing more than sheer boredom. You see, we have become so enamored with talking about ourselves, each other, people we barely know, the day, the weather, where we grew up, if we know about this restaurant on the corner of this street and that street, and have we seen this movie, have we heard this song, talk and talk and talk and talk. For once, can we bask in the ocean of silence, heads tilted back, floating gently atop the waves like a buoy in a serene lake. Listening to nothing in particular, being together is just enough. We don’t even need to be sitting close together; our bodies mold the boundaries that encloses us both. There is always empty space, so we are never truly apart. Just please, shut the fuck up. Clog the hole in which words continuously creep out. Just be present with me, that’s the only present I need. I’ll do this, and you’ll do that. Two independent souls working simultaneously on independent activities, both existing in the same space, form a molecule that rings out harmoniously, with each ring producing a creative ding!
Who dares come uninvited into my heart!
Barging through the double doors of my mind,
and constructing an impermeable fortress in my thoughts.
Only a person so despicable as you
could ever conduct this act of trespassing.
You have stolen away at night
with a piece of me,
and left a statue in your remembrance.
Treachery is your sword and,
I, the unwitting target.
Is it masochistic to say that I love the way the pointed edge feels?
Is it masochistic to say that I love the times we spent together?
Although they seem to dissolve like the root beer candies that would stick to our tongues…
Is it sadistic to hope that I have made monsoons fall from your eyes?
I hope you left in the same mindset as I,
waiting for the next time.