a poem

This is for my friend Janna. It's not good, but I just feel very... very like it doesn't matter if this is good or not. It doesn't matter if my images are weak and clichéd. This is how I feel at this very second.

life is pulsing
in your hand
a baby bird
an electric second
slowly, gradual
life is trickling
through short fingers
pooling at my feet.
it all just feels
too damn fragile
too breaking
too much depends
on one tiny word.
it shouldn't matter
who you god is
or if you pray.
it shouldn't matter
if you cover your head,
or pierce your nipple.
what should matter
is your smile
(yes, you)
because you give
and you gave
and you are mine
forever and always
life doesn't matter
because it's happened
and- blink- it's already over.
life doesn't really matter
because we met
and that's all that matters.