Life
Not fulfilling.
Just like gravy with no potatoes.
I have enough to weigh me down.
Experience tells me to leave them.
I wandered through a path of molecules.
And hurt like leaf veins coming to life.
Sentience is leftover trash.
From the garbage can that roams.
Spoiled and unlikely.
Comes to life like snails.
Comes to life like perfume.
Comes to life like growing horns on an animal.
Comes to life like the embrace of gravity.
Comes to life like old spinach thrown away.
Not fulfilling.
Experience tells me-
To be picky anyways.
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