Simultanuum
Poem
Published in
Feb 6, 2023
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?