The Comfort In Nihilism

Nothing really matters.

you may find this sentiment unsettling

after all, you have been through a lot.

sleepless nights scrambling to finish countless projects

numerous acts of love you wish you could frame

untold battles you’ve struggled to stand atop as the victor

all unbeknownst to the several people who coexist with you

to the multitude of people who have lived before you

and to the infinite amount of people who will live after you

Nothing has been more cruel and comforting.

as the tides of time will soon hold onto you with no remorse

it’ll all hiss and whittle away between our fingers

still, there is the glint of delight in the release of all the pain and shame

that our actions will soon shine as stars that have died

that our everything will soon lose its shape;

when all ends, we are the sole witness to our measly life

and—well—the question tugs at your brain a bit too much:

is there any point in doing any of this?

Even so, I am at peace.

as long as night and day are in constant embrace

there is no reason to juggle qualms

when the planets keep spinning on my permanent absence

the life we are given may flimsily hold its value

but as long as love from other measly lives fill our hearts

then perhaps we are all meant to be fools lost in time

there is nothing that holds you back;

leave the remnants of an unapologetic life