The Cave-In

Photo by Nsey Benajah on Unsplash

For want of reason or omnipotence

This morning I cry,

The vital substance I’ve hid inside

Comes seeping out,

And like Sisyphus and his beloved hill,

I stand undone as the stone comes beating

And beating back.

An image of the labored journey of Odysseus

Across the seas,

This foreboding disconnection wearies

My already shrunken heart.

Except he was immune to the siren’s song

And I, for a fact, know I’m not.

For as Icarus longed to be the sun’s lover,

I long to be of your atmosphere.

And yet the sun never needed any love;

Unheeded and full of hallucinations

Carelessly drowning in my own affectation

Bound by my terrible limitations

I am drawn to my own conflagration.