Identity is transient.
Connection, abbreviated;
Attachment, brief;
Thoughts, ephemeral.
We breathe by virtue of accident,
at chance’s mercy.
Return to the black.
Return to right.
Don’t wait any longer
to join where you belong.
Resting fate’s hand in yours,
curl up in your cocoon
as comfortably as you can,
without distress, and
repent.
Return what you stole.
Repent.
Have them bury you among tree roots.
Let your decay feed the future.
The planet will use you.
You’ll be diffused,
quickly forgotten.
Return what you stole!
Atone,
So you’ll at least be just
for those last moments!
May 14, 2025
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