(pen)ultimately

how can i live lightly

when i am being molded for the massacre,

when i am birthing fires

that will bear infernos

that will bear ashes in time?

how can i bloom

when i know i will one day wither,

wilting into freshly laid mulch above my ghost's past?

how can i avoid whatever comes last?

i will never be done

running from this continuum

i will never be completely finished

until i start surrendering

we are so obsessed with closure

that we forget why it's called an ending