They came to me in my dreams
The gray lapping onset of flotsam
On the shore – whirls, strands of color cemented
In cool, glass marbles
An echo of my soul
Pulled out by the strings -
Tubes of hiccupping neon cast
A haphazard shadow under the
Noon sun – she smiles at me
Before taking a bit of a fat, yellow
Sandwich in her hands – whispers,
A phantasmagorical pull into the willow-whipping
Torrent of fallen, brown leaves -
Thousand of the flurry its own scratchy climax -
Dizzying fury – falling, naked and alone in
A pile of leaves -
Just before I wake up.
About the Creator
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We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic7 days ago in Fiction
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