It’s the (Dead) End of the World as We Know It

…

We have a way of constantly falling
in love, out of love, off of cliffs, into

the great abyss. We crave the great
ebony nothing like a drug, shrug our

shoulders at the slight pauses, the
subordinate clauses, the effects and

causes of synergy and silence. Give
us curve of cul-de-sac, the cracking

open of a new vein. The stain and spill
and flow of a tributary undammed. Will

we find ourselves in these ending
places? Shuffle your feet to the end

of the darkest street. Feel the curb
find its way into your skin. Begin

the knowing of breaking bricks,
scattering straw and sticks to

……………make room for breath.

 

 

..
Prompted by Poetic Asides April PAD Challenge, day 30. 

 

 

Advertisement