Untitled Poem # 26

Each second is fleeting
The rapidity of it almost unconquerable
I became explicitly aware of
The air which enters my nose
The very same air which my life
Depended on…
Each minute is a toil
The burden of waiting
Yet, I continue to breathe
Not giving up on dear life…
Each hour seemed like a race
Between a team of turtles
And a herd of snails
That it seemed difficult
For me to live another minute
Therefore
I will love myself
Because nobody can ever truly
Love me other than myself
That way
Every second, every minute
Every hour
Would be bearable
That way,
I can continue to live…
Even if I have nothing
And nobody
Even life itself is not worth living for.
For in reality
I live alone
And I die alone…