Absentia: One.

I do not wish to sway
to the tune of the incoming flood
and oh, the flood
is right on the brink
the swathes of memory
the swerves of infinite empty existence
the fear of being submerged
and being invisible
I do not wish to relinquish myself
to be rooted out
– like a weed.
I must escape, and disappear
into the city alleyways,
garbage bins, brothels,
wherever it is safe,
the flood waits at the horizon
at sunset.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s