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.
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