Rain beats down upon
unlit sidewalks
the black world of
whispers unseen

my fingers grip each other
wringing, unsure of themselves
eyes closed against the darkness
finding it only deeper within

it’s as if I have a shotgun in my mouth
and I like the taste of the gunmetal
a pure metallic sharpness
that leaves all else to rot and decay
in the wilderness of my dismay

where do I turn when everything has left?
all directions look the same
when staying here is no different
from shifting there

the only movement is from
the drums resounding inside
pounding the rhythm of truth

someone once told me
that we are all connected
strings tying hearts
careful knots in all of us

at times we feel cut
severed and alone
nothing touches us
no hands held out to save

but beneath the surface
feeling around in the black
we find these strings
infinite in number and strength

unbroken