In the Deep
Although I’m being tortured bythis godawful playlist,
and the roadways are packed
with swellheaded asses,
I’m here, driving, but also naught-
My mind, it reaches,
lays bold strokes of Red,
then backtracks to flitters and flutters
until the butterfly effect
rests upon my heart-
And then the question hits me-
strikes me-shocks me-
How would they fair?
Do they really need me?
Or an open ear, rides, a warm body?
It guts me to consider that
all might be ordinary.
I don’t know what that means.
I think of Christmas Lights;
of closed bridges and highways;
I see consequences, maybes,
Forget-me-nots,
And they hurt me.
Diary by R.W.S.
Read 113 times
Written on 2024-03-03 at 01:27
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