Anonymous
the beginning and especially the end of all things is it too blunt to say, it’s never her or him or you, never one emotion, no soulmate’s love, no law of nature or religion or of art, not even time itself or suffering or any god above. maybe it’s blunt, but i don’t care, for it’s truly always been “I,” and nothing else: brushing away the sweat and the blood and the tears, washing the grease and the grime from my skin, clothing myself and smoothing my face and unfolding my bones and finally laying myself to rest when the light begins to thin. the day is slipping, so here it is, even blunter, that dull ache: I opened my eyes in the morning and I closed them at night; it’s Me who greeted the world and Myself who later said goodbye, and there’s deep comfort knowing that when everything else dies, the only thing left to exist will be I.
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