stolen from my father because i couldn't say it any better.

in seeing

there’s a loss.

a certain sense of emptiness

an

infinite

hopelessness

in experiencing life

through your heart,

through your blood,

through each breath.

seeing

lays dormant

then rises

to an awareness

‘til you’re

running,

chasing,

capturing,

a moment

after

a moment

before

many

moments...

before

the loneliness

&

loss

return

seeing...

it comes and goes.

it is not sympathetic

nor apologetic

there is no empathy

it is by nature

natural

the antithesis

of love

the moral keeper

of

ambiguity