Saturday, March 26, 2011


I write with a pen
until the ink runs out.
dark black to light black to gray
to nothing but invisible indentions on a page
the words remaining the same
in impossible braille
as the stick yawns and sleeps.

I stand at the shore-
feet in dirty sand
screaming until my lungs betray me -
until my head buzzes with tension like a dozen migraines-
growing fast like a mass.
there and contemplative,
my body draws it's conclusion;
my shoes over my shoulder-
another failed mission-
another attempt to stave off the dark.

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