it’s
not what i see
it’s
what i perceive
and
to me
i’m
in a box
not
exits, no locks
not
the slightest flicker
of
illumination
a
darkness you can’t see
a
silence you can’t hear
grasping
for straws
nerve
endings raw
devoid
of the delusion of destiny
all
i feel is the weight of my convictions
while
trying to transfer that heaviness
unto
my rage, my hate
to
keep them pinned down
immobile,
under control
suffocating
in the stale air of hopelessness
extinguished
like the cells
in
the bone yard of my brain
beyond
pretending
that
happy endings
coalesce
within a consciousness
captured
by the capitulation
of
my created universe
so
expansive
it
can only be measured
by
the meaninglessness
of
all the spaces in-between
***
No comments:
Post a Comment