lolkindofmyliferitenow

We swing our arms

like oars as we wade into the sunken

temple of our future selves, the stones

our hands carved out from the mountains

we saw as children; that range now a deep

and walled ditch in the ground filled

with a lake of memories and the laughing

faces of friends who wanted us to stay,

but refused to go with us,

and now we wait someday for the drop-off

as we push our bodies forward, when our feet

will lose the bottom and our hands will wave

above us like slow shadowy sails as we sink

and we’ll tell ourselves we had to keep going,

but all we’ll find’s what we left behind.

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