I inhale again
Taking another clean incision cut
From my mini mortal timeline.
Limiting my lifetime,
To a piechart of another slithering percentage lost.
At what cost?
To keep the economy clogging on?
Plodding on until ALL the petrols gone?
I mean I can’t fucking breathe out here.
But I guess you don’t care about me, son.
And every single species will be gone.
Mark my sulphur stung and wheezy words.
Until every chance we had, has gone.