Author | Victoria MacClements
If anything shall remain, it is the consistent inconsistency.
I come from a generation of wanderers, a free-flowing body,
Wafting in and out of what we fancy.
Disposing of this one, entertaining the idea of that one—
No one ensured a guarantee of our time.
Casualty encouraged, disappointment inevitable,
The prospect of a future is bleak.
I am of no exception; if anything, the epitome
Of the ephemeral kind of person we avoid, the person we become.
The kind that stands steadfast amongst the haze
Of friends we’ve lost, or friends we’ve forgotten:
Or, worst of all, friends who’ve done the same in kind to us.
Standing firm in our decisions to repeat the woes we’ve witnessed,
The fickleness of friendship prevails once more.
“People come, and people go”,
We tell ourselves to ease the pain of loss.
I am of no credibility—I’ve done this more than once,
This week, this month, this lifetime:
I’ve advanced the agenda to toss.
Toss away human beings, as if they had no meaning or purpose outside of myself.
I’ve let my whims and wonderings dictate each and every discourse.
And so with entire consciousness, I’ve allowed the consistent inconsistency to be my boss.
About the Author | Victoria MacClements is a sophomore Plan II and Sustainability Studies student at The University of Texas at Austin. She has no official experience with poetry or writing, other than standard schooling; however, she appreciates the transcendent quality that can occur from stringing certain words together.