May 4, 2010

• Solipsism

  All around
  it surrounds me.
  A vindictive hound
  scratches on my skull,
  demanding to be let in.
  It rankles in my ribcage,
  knocking across those prison bars of bones
  with knuckles bruised
  in demoralizing aching.
  Dark paints my skin from the inside,
  wiping and smudging on grime
  with a suffering artist's hand.
  It rages, it surges,
  some [    ]
  is angry.
  And I am sad.
  I know solace only twinkles in the obscure corner of the sky
  I know that all roads diverge from my desires and
  that of all the runons streaming runoff
  and the geysers spewing their own demise
  only I am wise.
  The cosmos knows nothing
  and the hound howls in belief
  that life exists
  somewhere in between.

  • 9:29 pm
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