i touch my soul and release the ON switch.
The darkness beckons like an aborted child full of possibilities never explored.
Potential never reached.
Heights never teached.
Things never speeched.
But life goes on thrashing like a rude animal, desperately devouring all in its path with no end in sight, and no table manners.
Trembling slowly, my hand reaches into the abyss for a drop of light to comfort my flickering life force. The only channel of hope that now rushes with the ferocity of a dying turtle, with no home to speak of.
TICK TOCK, click clack, the only sounds that remind me that reality never shuts off.
Where’s the remote?
It was never invented.
My shadows play dead to my consciousness, never there to teach me my concrete lessons.
So I scratch my bed stings, reminders of my past, itches of my present, and marks in my future.
The fade to black is my only resolution.
The gavel sounds and I pinch myself, hoping it’s a dream, no it’s just a scheme, ultralight beam?
The ticks turn into Morse code. Translation?