Inertia

A walk called a death march

A blink is also a shotgun

A breathe is also suffocation

A Thursday where the world is ending

A dialogue called eulogy

When a flame is cold

Where stone is bread

Where curving a smile is taxing

Where lying down feels like a burial

Where standing feels like collapse

When a birthday is a due day

Where a dream will not wake you

Where a body is meat

Where the soul is but an illusion

That is

A strange, vulgar, sanctified thing called:

Life