Couldn't Let Go Of Life

It's pointless. It's so pointless.

My eyes zoomed in on a middle-aged man offering two chocolate ice-cream cones to his kids. Funny, I thought, I'll never get to be in his place, and I'll never get to wear his smile. 

This love, it's so pointless. 

All I'd ever fallen in love with was art, but maybe art hadn't fallen in love with me. It was kind of unsurprising and already expected, though. All the wishes I had whispered over fallen stars and stray eyelashes, and all the prayers I had murmured during sleepless nights weren't automatically supposed to come true. 

This work, this life, it's all so pointless. 

Yet I couldn't let go of life.