by Kelsey Marie Harris
A man lay dying on your steps. You step over his body and call an ambulance. He dreams of the conquests of his lifetime and the missed opportunities. Phantom smells waft in of the foods he loved and places he’s been. You cover your nose, anxious for when he can become someone else’s problem. Life happens while it ends.
Time wasted is like losing blessings through a balding head, or finding they were buried under your jacket/pillow the entire time and the sheep never told you. Sheep never tell anything really, except how to follow your tail into a massacre. They’ll have you believe your worth is measured in the weight of your wool, and you shouldn’t ask for more than that.
Want becomes need when priorities shift. Need is only an illusion. We need food and water to live, but we don’t need to live. We want to. Death is natural as sex, yet we shy away from them both. They still managed to go on everyday, sometimes in correlation.