mingling @ 3fps

perhaps there is a

Place in this world

where things are secretly and quietly being

Lost to

memories, feelings, people, ideas

any concept you can

Imagine

they float over there,

waiting to be

Freed.

it lies between me and you

and everything else that

Exists

all the small infinities that matter

like the silences of the living

Dead

in my wine and your bread.

think of it as painting made with smeared

Dreams

and shattered realities of

Questions without answers

time and space hold no power over it

nor do Kafka or the birds.

my shadow lives in that place

afraid of the monster I have become

plaguing and destroying everything

it ever loved or desired

with the sheer force of

Vengeance

as the human shaped emptiness and

lump of still-born children inside my head

clash and tear away at each other

like savage, pariah dogs

without a damn care in the world.