By The Time You Read This, It's Too Late

my first poem that might not be horrible.

a little like falling,
we race along
trying to keep up with our shadows.
smelling like sand and heartbreak,
seconds slip through the bathtub drain
and collect in a pool
we like to call memories.

a glance in a looking-glass
and i remember that that life is already over,
and by the time i realize it, that one is too.
we're all living purple millisecond lives
that end and begin when our eyelashes touch.

a blink's like a kiss,
starting before we know it
and ending too soon,

so a kiss is like a life:
a short eternity,
deliciously sloppy,
soft and furious,
killing us all with every breath.