Midnight walk along a

dimly lit parkway, deadline

lurks behind amber clouds

alight with the wash of a

foreign wild fire; aimless and

alone, hums, drones to find

a place outside of this a

breath outside of the thing

that I think that I have lost

a slave to some organization

bigger than anything i’ve yet

to see, this tearing force; torsion

along an axis parallel to something

vaguely cardiovascular; magnetic

antitheses undermined by their

inherent dipole; I inhale the

carcinogenic air and wish that

the dawn would come to carve out

another day another footstep in

this slow grind, a sine curve racing

towards its periodic intersection

only to fall away as

fast as it came.

Like what you read? Give Centimeter a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.