The other day

I prefaced a conversation by saying “and that’s how it ends”.

Is it really that simple?

I prefaced later on from the past preface and said, and I quote, “It’s a story of love and misfortune, hurling broken dreams tumbling into less compassionate atmosphere’s”

Doesn’t make a lick of sense, correct? Wrong.

It was perfect in it’s design, shaped towards strict dietary guidelines and pompous viewpoints strangling for the right choice. Wrong again.

Articulating, articulating. Lift the dying with your hands, pray towards the sun, and wish upon the furthest star, the closer can’t hear you.

All that, in a matter of minutes, reversed the earths gravitational pull, and ceased to be funny or mocking. Fly with wings of old wax and dusty overcoats.