allow time to get and be lost
undistracted by the way there.
and the places i meant to visit,
and even the places i didn't.
by land, by sea, by fire, by air
driven by primordial instinct
fight or flight with myself
where i stand on everything
contrary to popular thoughts
a balance not yet held at any cost
because i can, because why not,
because there is no such thing.
it's one man's happy ending,
and it's someone else's hell.
but i, like most, am indifferent.
a culture afraid of their feelings.
commence with the celebration-
at least it's a place to start.
share a common language,
or incite a common discourse.
no more no more anymore.
know when to be found,
and when it's time to be lost,
About the Creator
⸘jason alan‽
:::WARNING:::
i am only responsible for what i say
:::WARNING:::
not for what you understand
:::WARNING:::
you may learn to be charmed by my [secret‽] discontent
:::WARNING:::
or you may not
Keep reading
More stories from ⸘jason alan‽ and writers in Poets and other communities.
Two Wrinkles In Time
It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
By Lily Séjor5 days ago in Fiction
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