i feel happy,

at the moment

i feel happy inside out.

but i wonder what it is,

what this means

and how to hold it.

i don't know if i'm breathing

or holding my breath,

i wonder if i cling to that

"happiness".

i wonder, would i fall or float,

if I closed my eyes and

waited.

Three candles

| | |

~ .~ . ~.~

pierce your

~~~~~~~~~~

chocolate cake

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*******************

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three flames

* * *

| | |

~.~.~.~

for you,

~~~~~~~~~

we celebrate

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*******************

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three wishes,

with

e

y

e

s

closed,

w

e

make

Three

_ | _

|

~~~~~

you’d be,

~~~~~~~~

if not for fate

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dark eyes dance

To the melody

Of labored breathing

As I forget

The monster that haunts

Me from behind the

Sea-tinted glass.

My eyes close under

The heat of a bright light

And I nibble at the skin

Of my parched lips

As my body

Grows cold and stiff.

My life has no objective purpose. It can't. It doesn't.

Factually, all of life is merely a cosmic incident hobbling along bound together by evolutionary duct tape and artifically-imposed patchwork. It works hardly and hardly works in varying degrees.

Scientifically, there is zero evidence, let alone proof, for the existence of a creator. No almighty being put us here and there is simply the almighty being that is living. An afterlife is about as far a reach as the TV remote just when you got comfortable on the couch.

But none of that means my life can't matter. It can. It does.