“EPHEMERAL”

My throat is dry, a wave of nausea hits me,

I slowly make my way through the world like a ghost,  

the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming. 

It’s an oxymoron. 

Walk walk walk, 

echoing in my ears are comforting melodies 

trying to drown out the tiny diva  

incessantly monologuing in my head

about something that hasn’t happened yet. 

The ephemeral nature of most things

destroys me.

M.L. April ‘24