Letting go is fake
and a little thin.
Starting something new
is purely out of some latent instinct.
Out hearts’ simultaneous beat
isn’t as good
as a real laugh or cry,
The weight of the heart isn’t loving.
The point of honesty is awakening.
Being drunk is real.
An end isn’t happy,
Going home isn’t a butterfly
in a jar — trapped, dead.
Moving on isn’t pointles and painful.
Your hope in anything isn’t pretty amazing.
Carbon isn’t going to break soon.