lank tangles

animated,
charming,
so very young.

youth is attractive in such that its verve is both boundless and contagious, challenging infinity to meet the expense of

fooling around like mischief incarnate,
dishing out saccharine remarks like it was payment for every breath taken,
grinning and smiling and laughing like all existence was beautiful.

"beautiful it is."

but alas, youth has a rather capricious approach to time that is

frustrating,
exhausting,
depressing.

without so much as a sigh, it would be off,

an exquisite daydream snapped back into focus,
drunken euphoria swallowed by a titanic hangover,
a sheer figment of hopeful, wishful imagination;

ephemeral,
ethereal,
ersatz.

bile bleeds into the fabric of bliss, the stain

dark,
permanent,
absolute.

healing seems a long time coming, for its consent or denial there is not a word, and time has grown weary of the wait. 

the picture fades,
the the grip slackens,
the beat stops.

and there is only

good night,
goodbye,
go.