Time: The Killing Pain


The Killing Pain

Leaves,
when stuffed into a plastic bag,
are unable to decompose.

Air is necessary for building up,
and for breaking down.

Between the hiatal glitches in my time stream,
I pause before stepping out of year 1873
and into an undiscovered 1997.

Undiscovered because—from my current perspective—
it will be different than my pervious passthroughs.

Memories,
when layered beneath acid-free timelines,
are more likely to bred rebellious offspring.

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