8hz

every breath my last

and every step a tightrope

don’t make me do it

wake up sleepy head

forget the past fifteen years

today is the day

the plane dips and rocks

the vast desert beneath us

how did i get here?

i’m in a sitcom

i’m swimming in the harbour

my limbs lose function

the vile creature writhes

a limbless mass of wet flesh

convulses and spits

having faith in doubt
all metaphysical thought
stems from fear of death

circular logic

you can’t concede to yourself

this isn’t over

a puddle forming

a sentence left unfinished

a dish best served cold

the water wont stop

despite how i turn the taps

i found it like this

i’m not welcome here

i have nowhere else to go

scratching at the door

laugh and weigh that up

against what’s in the mirror

all our faults are one

having faith in doubt
all metaphysical thought
stems from fear of death

and that is?