2022-12-13

bowed heads at dusk

I'm the sole passenger on a bus wrapping around the dark hills of dying mothers. I cut off one of my hands to let a little pressure out of the wrist. But the results were not satisfactory. You will know the horror of this planet by the broken windows and empty rooms after 10pm. The emptiness and isolation are only terrifying if you retain memories of a warmer, brighter life occasionally pulsing out of a distant past that will never be relived, never be recovered.