I want to shake them off, the weird thoughts, like a swarm of bees, buzzing, whining, aimed at nothing. Want to write me off?
Loneliness.I observe the hands of a watch, looks like they are not moving. Time stands still. Waits for me to move.
An atavistic ache.Again I view the world. Everybody is making a sound without bending. With dreams dead, I step into emptiness, barefoot, to feel the earth.
Not going to quit, free to **** my ghost, I move into sunlight.