Almosts

We as humans seem to lack perspective sometimes. We view the world from a spy glass and refuse to believe that anything can ever be truer than our own perception. For us to change we need cataclysmic events to shake the very foundations of our lives. It’s sad to see people only appreciate things once they’re gone. It’s sad to think that someone can see worlds unimaginable in the galaxies that linger in our eyes. Constellations etched into the freckles on our skin. But to us they were never anything other than flesh. Oh, so temporary and forgettable. But, to them they can’t even close their eyes without remembering every scar on our body like a map written in braille. We look at them, these extraordinary people who see the good and bad in our lives, loving our entirety without hesitation and we always question their charity, compassion, empathy and love. But, never once question the irrational nature rooted in the very matrix of our existence, the kind that presents itself in our hatred and indifference. Such malice becomes inextinguishable; it burns until it consumes our very soul, soon that stubborn virus reduces us to nothing but rot and ash. We lose our beauty the moment we refuse to see the beauty in others. There are only two things, I’ve learned, you can never get back time and those you love. It’s so easy to find comfort in our memories of past joy then to be here, present, finding the joy in today before it becomes nothing more than a passing pleasure only truly appreciated once it’s gone. Appreciate the people who say they love you. Look at them the way they look at you and tell me whether or not there’s truly nothing left to be admired about this cold world. Because they might not always be there and nothings sadder than beginning to love someone only once they’ve begun to move on.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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