Holding. Clinching the Universe into my abdomen like I was a god.
But I'm less than a man.
Holding it in for twelve or maybe sixteen hours. No pain at this point,
Just deadness.
Maybe I'll go there, or there, or there.
No bother,
Because I'm transparent. Everyone knows. My thoughts
can be heard for miles.
I guess I'll go home and never leave.
No comments:
Post a Comment