sometimes i feel
oh, so young.
other times i feel
like time is running out.
i have my whole life ahead of me.
but do i?
there's no promise
that i'll live until i'm 80.
not even to 22.
how can we possibly
be just the right amount of
spontaneous and whole-hearted;
living life to the fullest, while
maintaining some sort of reservation
to make sure we're still alive if
the non-existant promise shows true
and tomorrow comes?
i know i think too much.
but atleast it gives me verbal reasons
and physical assurance for when i
tell my mom i love her.
or hug my dad goodbye.
when i stick my head out the window on the highway
to catch a taste of the night
or kiss my boyfriend on the cheek for no reason.
pay for a random stranger's meal
or hold the door for an old woman with a walker.
i did it because i dont know when the last time might be.
money doesn't matter.
neither does pride
or possessions.
materialistic items do not exist in my heart.
only those whom my heart break for.
and only that of which my heart contains
really matters.
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