&
Being torn apart on the reef
In some relentless high tide
Where I can’t get a foothold
Against moments of anxiety
sickness
Pressed against the clock
Into service, against desire
Where everything feels like
piracy and corruption
Like riding atop a draught horse
that forgives nothing
As everything falls beneath the
gallop as ruthless empires of thought
In moments I trample over
anything that could be construed as opposition
And in others, it decimates as
choppy waves in an upsetting vessel
And I press my hands to my skull
and the tears I cannot hold any longer, fall.
Torrential, in a way that I cannot
harness, in a sorrow I cannot name
As the storm of myself reels out
of control
to be prescient in their thoughts
as the pent-up rage peels their souls from their form
to feel them as their beings pour
into Hades, dragged down under the currents
I want to hold them to the fire
of my form as they incinerate in strife
and still, there is no they, only
me, only I remain
adrift upon an endlessness I cannot
place
reigning over creatures that I cannot
consolidate
broken within a form I cannot clearly
sense
dreaming of a nature that has not
yet come to pass
and it is the perversity of hope
that keeps me at the helm
compelling me into the sequential
moments that comprise a lifetime
I have these visions where it all
works out
And I am left wondering how to
reign them in
Beyond the veil of my own delusions
And still within the power of my own reach.
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