The Necrosis of Our Nature

When's the last time, We've ever talked? 

When's the last time, We've even shared a thought? 

When's the last time, we've ever tried? 

When's the last time we've lived, Outside of the mind? 

Can we remember the last time. . . We've broken the web? 

When's the last time, we've died to live? 

The last time we've followed through, on something once said? 

When's the last time, we've taken pause? 

When's the last time, we've felt a loss? 

When's the last time, 

We've listened without wasting a sentence, 

Redirecting it back to our own flaws? 

Have my words broken yet? 

Can its pieces still be fixed? 

If we weave back together those gaping spots, 

Would the cocoon have still lived? 

Thriving moths fly today, from predator as prey 

Caught, in the porch lights flame, to never see again. 

One question to ponder of struggling: 

Are we the spider or the fluttering? 

Are we the wind breaking the cycle, 

Or are we the brush, holding the lifeless?