now
my eye sees with
distorted myopia,
misanthropic dystopia
where I carried on
wandering
in this egregious
hope for utopia.

absurdity.
my mind reels.
hope no longer appeals
wondering
where i go from here

impulse
impulse
impossibility
ha
ha
ha
"upward mobility?"

I'll take a train
I'll leave the car
"far" is not far anymore

Engrained in my aspect
On the verge, the precipice
A cathartic reject
A failed hedonist
Forever and endless
Not even emptiness
A mess.

They build hell and wish for heaven.
They seek their glory after death.
They focus their intention
Toward the only fixed point in time:
The End

I don't know why I've gone so far.
Nobody's stopping me.

I know that I'm a better man
when in proximity.

I need you to activate, or appropriate.
Create me.

Alone,
I tear the walls down.
Naked to myself.
Trying not to dream.

I have failures to endure,
and lessons to learn.
The greatest of burdens
are laurels I did not earn.

Digging unexploded ordnance
on a mountain of corpses,
but the view is amazing.

A fissure in the ice kneading.
The land mass receding.
The creaking floorboard.

No longer in my conscious register,
the sound becomes a rhythm to which
I live.

In rending,
splitting,
click-ticking,
gradual,
infinitesimal
increments-

In cartilaginous pops I dance
along to the sound that I ignore...
The creaking floorboard.