My memory

The vacuum from the chest pulls and pinches
The air from everything, emotion
The heart goes a flutter
Ten thousand finches
At the thought of what's to come

The idea that life is an experience
A moment so insignificant
Almost zero it is in the grand scheme
Of things, enough to tense
The soul for what its worth, hence
It is worth nothing.

Lessons learned from pain but why
Where are we going with this
I cannot discern my lesson except
That perhaps the lesson is that
Despite all the joys and pain in life
It is meaningless
Why do we stay?

We are organisms anyway.
Like cells that live and die
Their only motives are to procreate
But from what we do in life its only
Like we masturbate
For no answers can be found.
It is worth nothing.

Taking a short cut might be the answer
But religion tells that its a sin
Because from there we cannot begin again
But be met with Hell, whatever that could mean
Or nothing, endless, peaceful nothing
Might be what we're met with.

The interactions we have with others
Superficial at best but we have them
Nonetheless.
Humans like to put meaning to their lives
Like our existence is yet another prize
Yet infinitesimally we are nothing
So what does it matter if we disappear

My life is just a dirty smear
On the photograph that is the grand existence
At first glace it is nothing
At second glance it is something
Easily smudged away, forgotten
Like I will be.

A hundred years they will not know me
I have no following
My meek peers they perhaps might miss
My wit, my face, my tender kiss
But in fifty I'll just be a dream
And the memory of me will not be what it seems.