Simultanuum

Poem

cosminoance.com

There will be a point in this story

where I lose sense of time, enslaved by emotion

less cage, more a thorn

Tracks in time led my heralds straight

to an executioner's chamber

The ones that came back planted nails

through my eyes and my fingers

and the back of my head

Why would you bother setting us all up to fail?

I can taste my delusions

bleed out with each day

How does one taste - hollow?

Then the past is my present

since the future expired

When I wake up, when am I?

And who the fuck is that guy?