Consider This Life

I want to erase everything that I am.

I want to smear it
all over these pages
until it's nothing,
not even a blur on
the outskirts of my memory.

•

Mon Mar 2

“ why

do the
fingers

of the lit
tle once beau
tiful la

dy(sitting sew
ing at an o
pen window this
fine morning)fly

instead of dancing
are they possibly
afraid that life is
running away from
them(i wonder)or

isn’t she a
ware that life(who
never grows old)
is always beau

tiful and
that nobod
y beauti

ful ev
er hur

ries (via eecummings) (via shambles)