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The Plot Of My Joy Is UnNatural

Cleaved from the breast of a hydrophobic stone; I found solace

in disremembering. I stowed away on a barge of flotsam.

Carried the weight of my teeming delirium

all the way, to my tiresome revolt.

 

Like a Gunga Din... with a bucket

full of wishes. And a bucket

of holes.

 

I only slept when the dreams stopped.

 

As foretold.

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Written by
third-eye-candy
M / American
Published
Apr 18, 2018
Lines·Words
9·59
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