You.
You and I in a room and its so full, yet so empty.
We are nothing and everything, and we are surrounded with guilt ridden corpses and silence that wont stop.
I…
Am sorry I didn’t know how refracted my inner workings were, but they’ve sent me on a loop to 2005 and i can’t tell the time.
I thought I had been here, and that I’d seen everything I never needed to see, that it was the end, that it would end in blue.
But….
I realised that I was nieve as bamby, as self righteous as a priest and as ambiguos as the helplines that tell you ‘its worth it’ in the end.
but the end is gutter-trapped styrofoam and is as inexplicable as this poem, writ trapped, in a lonely room full of people on the beach.
A total contradiction.
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