-
...i hear it,
even when it makes no sound.
it is so deeply hollow,
even Empty echoes 'round.
(and i'm so sure of all of this
because i hear it now.)
it is a disembodied pleading—
a guttural, deep shrieking. mercy
calls you from your being
as it all becomes too much.
i recall i, cold and lifeless,
watched (beside myself, despite this)
as i clumsily engaged in an
attempt to wake you up.
enough time dissociated,
we begin to wonder when
exactly, where exactly:
how does this all end?
-
one of two ways