Large, yet small.

by lusteringkisses

I clear my throat, just in case the world wants to hear my opinions.
I run my tongue over the edges of my white rocks –
smooth and white.
Trust me,
they matter.

But suddenly I am aware that we are flecks of the reflected sun;
and I am just but a minuscule speck of dust –
physically meagre and trifling.
Trust me,
I don’t matter.

I rub my eyes and I look straight – back at myself in the reflection.
My hands move and the image in front of me moves.
Every muscle I clench – it is major.
Trust me,
I matter.

But then I see a trussed up carcass buried below dead grass and dried flowers;
blowflies hanging from the holes where meat once filled.
Everything I am will be gone, in time. It is already gone.
Trust me,
I, you, me, they – we all – don’t matter.

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