Whispers 

like peels 

from the other side

unfurl

ethereal fog.

Whispers,

deceptive

crush of white 

noise,

obfuscate 

and the forks

abound

in the muffling darkness.

Alone to atone,

clawing through the madness 

of this Sisyphean life

and all is all 

but

fucked.

Whispers 

fall

and lie,

an accumulation 

of crushed potentials, 

and I sigh 

and I sigh

and I sigh, 

forlorn corpse

venting trapped

gases and regrets.