July 16, 2011
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A sepulchral warning seeping from the tips of your body
A slow wave of paralyzing harpies’ songs
As cold and death and warmth and light
Balance to find equilibrium and it’s numb
Everything is numb and there is nothing and there is everything
And the nothing is creeping from the outside in
And the nothing is flowing from the inside out
And you are nothing, you feel nothing, you have become nothing
Your fingers curl naturally, a final clenched fist
To pound away any last worries
But there are none because you have become the nothing
And they relax their grip, then pull
That is all.

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