A Meaningless Jog

Life is a meaningless jog
Through space and time.
It hardly matters
Who lives or dies.

But sometimes,

Sometimes there's a cat
That I wish to scratch,

Sometimes an afternoon
Is spent in good company

And sometimes
I crave a beer, and so I have one,
or two,

Or three.

There's that movie I wish to yet see,
And a game I have to finish.
A shelfful of books I have to read.

And whilst none of it
Has any real purpose—
Divine or grand—
It is fun to breathe,
So I keep going.

Turtleneck

I missed it all
Living in this shell.

Turtleneck.

I made hell
And here I dwell,
Dying.

Yearning

An insatiable lust and
Endless curiosity,
Faced with terror
Beyond relief.

What I yearn
And what could be,
But if I can, if I even should;
I cannot tell.

That What is Missing

We were together
For so very long,
And one afternoon
You were gone.

Things change
And it is easier now;
Yet I still miss you,
My dearest friend.

Sometimes I Wonder

Sometimes I wonder
What could've been
If things had gone
Just a little different.