a cyclical road map to nothingness
littered with fragments of do not enter signs
swimming through a sea of crumpled paper
my ink stained hands ***** walls of judgment
the ever rasping door scrapes open with hesitation
hello fear, I’ve been expecting you.

no time for formalities
fingers bent back
mouth taped shut
mind strapped down

and in the distance, the monitor bleeps its disapproval,
“sorry, we’re not interested in your work at this time"

four numbers.
a start.
dashed between dashes of time
waiting for,
four numbers.

There are galaxies between our eyes
Neurons bend and snap,
waiting for our eyes to meet.

And now, I could walk for days without knowing if you followed.
I could forget you
I could

The rings left behind don't fit around a finger,
Cardinal and crimson,
They mock and ******.
Your convictions fall away with no sense of gravity.
It’s the big bang, and we’re just collateral damage.

Messy and unforgiving,
the convulsions of life.
Breathing life in through limbs outstretched.
Waiting for the savior,
convoluting realities.
Past and present are in the waiting room,
thoughts and feelings untethered.
Patience forgotten,
the doctor long gone.