Flipping through catalogues of potential futures
we like to cut out our faces from photos
and glue them to the futures we like best.
On our bravest days, we would draw the futures
ourselves and we’d even dare to make them
beautiful beautiful
as if taken out of a Pinterest blog
yellow leaves, a nice scarf, a book,
a little bit of shy sunshine and a pair
of glasses I don’t need
An aesthetic
a typewriter aesthetic
a record player aesthetic
a poem inspired by being sad aesthetic
a suicide aesthetic
and
we live to reach that aesthetic state of mind
that feels like a week in the most beautiful city in the world
we want to feel like we belong there but we don’t and so
we keep living in the chase for it.
But when I run out of breath
and let it out completely
I’ll be a dying flower
a wrinkling petal
falling off and
right into the
ground.
