Please excuse me for just one brief moment, if you will
As I clumsily trip inside my miniature time machine
-I built it out of cardboard boxes full of puppets with one hand
Oily books of senseless drawings and warm homes made out of sand-
And raise the anchor that's been keeping it so still,
And witness how the void inside decreases. Till
i fill my brain with petty nothingness.
(Or was it "happiness"?-I had forgotten how
the sound of that word never reaches me now
when I've been taught how to think on my own).
Allow me the power to suspend Time and Space
Leave me entangled in my ombilical chord
In an error of Life, in a dark, empty Place
Where I can think of nothing, and utter no word.
Because here, everything that had to Happen has been Done
and I have Nothing left to think of and cry after
when it's gone. |
Submission Name: Regression(or when you know there's nothing..
