Thoughts Do Rot Poem by Cheyenne Rhon

Because death is inevitable,
And my expiration is unknown.
"I don't hate you" are just words,
When you're staring at a white wall,
Overwhelmed by stale emotions,
And the fact I can't hit pause.

Youth isn't static, it tics,
To your perishable contents,
And reality does not preserve,
What's left in an open jar,
That contains unsavory nerves.

With the freshness of skin,
Because thoughts do rot,
I paint on an inanimate grin,
For a world that never stops,
And doesn't mind to waste,
A body without a cause.