...
Life,
is gouging out holes in me
I dont know how to fill
...
Cavenous expanses,
where life force used to rage
...
each piece of me carved away
by the hands of time
at the whim of fate.
...
I claw on
more determined
to live the life I want
with the things I no longer need
tied behind me
where sentiment flails
...
weighted down
by a useless comfort
steming from a need
in some obscure part of me
I hardly recognise
...
while still,
daring to dream
the possibility
of discovering
the meaning
of my existence
or life,
or even.
the enigma of love
in the conumdrum living
Or perhaps,
so desperately
the unsolvable longing
in my soul.
...
Something
...
And Still.
no closer,
I discover;
more
holes
...
