Snowflies

 as it grows in my belly

the want for what could've been

falls softly on the winter lawn

it's all frozen in moments

moments as many as the snowflies

that dance outside this February window

their intricate one-of-a-kind wings

flutter and fail, porcelain pale

as the corpses piled up

in regret and such

the midnight moons that dripped

into burning morning hues

and all the versions of you

but oh how tattered the mirror grew

how the reflection cracked

the ice underfoot on this February pavement

where the snowflies stick and melt and die

with all the hopes spent in fear

all the words spoke in fear

a life probably lived that way too

as it grows in my belly

this want that steals my sleep

watching the frantic life and death

of snowflies in the street light

Dripping

 these great manifestations

what, you reading this

and me typing this

and every little

fragment that falls in between

and out of sorts with the rest of it

that is why the world is coming

to an end

because it came from a beginning

bringing with it all these manifestations

and if you are to be happy

secure, in love, and that

someone must be miserable

though we try and preserve

we try and hold on to the smallest

percentage of matter in the universe

that is, what we are able to see

we want just that to go on forever

only 20 percent of all this existence

when we can be the continuous

wind that blows through these halls

we can be the stars that blow up, die out

and ignite again

because we are, and all that matter

we look at everyday doesn't really matter at all

we are merely drops of water yearning

to understand the ocean