expiration

And life is too short, as if you didn't know it. There are parts of the day when you learn knowledge of something far from spectacular, but also something definably significant, it becomes yours to hold in that space inside yourself, rattling in the vast expanse. The words come from all of us at one point in time or another, it is a ritual after some time and we deliver the words without the will to hold them back. We wait for the looks of horror and acknowledgement, for it is not a friendly message we broadcast, it is not wanted news and we wish it wasn't true. Death, finality, the end of all that had so much to offer, but the short fall into nonexistence happens without forgiveness, only memories can remain. It is our own mismanagement of time that leads to waste, and to secure destruction we face mortality in the ways we learn through life's deepening cavity of despair. This abruptness and unwanted halt is rejected by the remaining lives that find themselves in pools of sorrow, anger, and depression. We who are left standing have the pressures increase before we can release them. The welling at the eye can grant silent reprieve, but there isn't any relief of the suffering we face, the individual isn't ever replaced. It is time for our actions to move forward, because we must and it is in our resilience that we can handle the turmoil, it is with fond memories that you survive. From this vantage point we find the grains of sand take on a new light, a different texture, a reminiscent scent, and the sounds unleashed as we walk across them in the summer breeze have distinction now as we recline back introspectively recapturing you.