Bound

Why is not a question that matters now

Bound. Here there is a strangeness.
Lingering among corners and outcasts,
hung up on something. Opens its mouth 
and speaks like static. 
Endless moments to pull apart like atoms,
ensuing explosions create life in unimagined
ways. Clenches its teeth and screams
harsh tones that stick to the walls. 

Why is not a question that matters now.

Light spectrum pierces, illuminates.
Vibrating nostalgia, familiar blur,
dreaming of something. Opens its eyes
and starts a fire. Before there is after 
there has to be now, and there will be an after.
Lonely space, callous rock, fragile matter. 
Caught in a pattern like a wave, tumbling,
holds its hand out and drowns. 


07/03/2018