Little Bits and Pieces



“What am I?” the voice I hear scythes with intricate malice. “Who am I?”  But no answer comes flying with any precision, to hit the target, to burst the bubble and provide any insight.  “Where am I?” a sense of confusion layered thick with incomprehensive fear.

 Once there was something that hung around and the things that shared that space clamoured in panic to escape, crushed all before them to flee and in doing so fed upon the stillness of those less frantic.

 But now a simple state, of empty dread and nothingness and the same repeated painful thoughts


4 responses to “Little Bits and Pieces

  1. Very deep but… what does it mean?

  2. This reminds me of some of my spouse’s poetry. Beautiful. I write in a much simpler, more straight forward style.

  3. Why does everything have to mean something? can’t it just … be? I used to like writing surreal little bits like this – it’s fun!

  4. Reminds me of part of one of my favorite Vertical Horizons songs, “We Are”: ‘Cause I don’t know how, I don’t where we are, we are, and I don’t know why and I don’t know if we are, we are.

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