posthumous

Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal.
I’ve always thought about that
the praetorian guard
of my mind
screaming through my days
remember caesar remember caesar
relentlessly, infuriatingly, inexpressibly
unforgettable
my Greek chorus
my Roman public
my philosophers
they are wiser than I am
and with every word they remind me I can never live my life fully
because as I speak, it is running out
and I have this obligation
to live my life to the fullest
and I am not.
thou art mortal thou art mortal
I need to write my name
to confirm that I exist
I need to write I I I I I
just to remind myself
that there is a life.
And with every step I take
I get older
with every breath
I begin to run out
and I wonder what would happen
if the world ended.
REMEMBER, CAESAR
Suddenly.
Every death is sudden
you breathe and then you stop.
Even if you slow down a little
there is still an ending
and that means that one moment it’s there
the next it’s gone.
And then when breath stops and everything ends
all that’s left is the epitaph on the stone
which, in a way, is comforting
because stone is, at least,
more long lasting.
THOU ART MORTAL.
we were, weren't we?