A Missing Digression



I feel it’s lack. A vague disquiet. An echoing discordant silence.

I tell myself time turns.

I tell myself tides roll.

I tell myself things evolve.


I feel it’s coming and going. Drama and madness. Passionate complications.

I tell myself I am well rid of it.

I tell myself I am grown beyond.

I tell myself I had traded in illusions.


I feel it’s thundering heartbeat. Striving and changing. Rearing up through ashen stone.

I tell myself to watch the moon.

I tell myself to count to ten.

I tell myself to accept mercy.


I tell myself I feel fine as I am.


I know I don’t believe myself.

I know I lie.


I know I really feel nothing.


1 Comment

  1. This is beautiful. Palpable melancholy, pain, deep sadness…but beautiful.

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