A tide washes over
blood rushing through
The owl snaps its head
held together by duress
Pipes burst
Bridges collapse
The ground caves in
The thought is unmistakeable
it’s all there is
When I ran myself off the cliff
When I holed myself into vacant spaces
When I wandered deep into the abyss
I lost faith in keeping the charade going
to see highest order goods
in a bottomless inferno
Tortured in insufficiency
yet held perfectly still in a dizzying mirage
bringing praise and acceptance
It’s a bleak truth
one that keeps me awake at night
that the tick makes all whole
But it never quite seems
that the vacant, stress-glazed eyes
are sewn in deep decisions
If the streets will continue to flood
or maybe the concrete collapses once again
I will still be here
self aware of the daily instinct
and consumed by the static
It’s all there was