Our Numbered Days

by Neil Hilborn

flight is just a fall that never finds the ground.

“You are like a comet: every so often you come around to fuck up my shit.”

I am a pile of bricks and you are holding a sledgehammer, which is to say I would not exist without you.

I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, but maybe you should listen to your feet when they tell you to run

Stop biting your nails. Let it go.

This is what it’s like to say goodnight and mean goodbye.

I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once. He doesn’t care if it’s perfect.

I am just carbon and bad timing.