A revision of earlier work.

The Brevity of my life was a mere flash
in the cosmic whirlwhind.
Beyond the fracture
I descend
beyond the surface
I’ve pierced
Beyond the silver lining
Collapsing inward
A serpent devouring
It’s own eternity
The tide of emptiness is subsumed back into itself
Lethe is beckoning me once more
I am uncertain
It might be too silty, too brackish
Here I stand on the shore of my own consciousness
The shallow, murky water of time and space
I listen for the call
Fingertips
Needles
Grasping time before me
Useless actions
Don’t look back upon those woods, never
The tree sheds it’s leaves
perhaps indiscriminately
I shed my thoughts here out of necessity
then I collect them in fetal position
Wildfires scorch me in these woods too often
I used to find solace here
Bitter thoughts can take root
if the cold doesn’t take you first

My bones are brittle
years of leaning against the winds
blowing in from the void
Chapping my Eyes, wrists, and mouth
I cannot speak
without cracking some way or another
Sometimes I hear your voice
reverberating in my own
Moving dusty furniture around in my interiority
Asthmatic spasms of recollection

I swim out
fervently thrashing my body against the breaking waves
What does it mean, when my feet are no longer grounded?
As above, so below

Lethe is an ocean
Rivers are too shallow, with some sort of terminus
My mouth is shut
I will not drink