broken glass
glitters on the side
of the road
spread to commemorate
careless collisions
ribbons sway
from the wooden cross
planted sadly
in the brown grass
a memorial to
the fleeting seconds
the sorrows above
from the sorrows below

on the seventh day
god rested
put her phone on silent
and lounged
far removed from
the world she created
and it was good
so good in fact she made
the decision to leave
the damned thing
in a drawer
forgotten as it all
went to shit below

i sit
stuck in traffic
as the lights spin
just ahead
the world is
a graveyard filled
with worn headstones
names and dates lost
in faded lettering
the fickle finality
of fated fuckery
a punchline to
a joke so morose
we laugh to stop
ourselves from crying
unheard voicemails
begging for hope
in a dreamchasm of desires
hell is another whimper as
the heart beats itself
to death

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