The seconds follow
Faster
They get under you, throw you.
Confusion, yours
Is firm.
It lasts long, and longer
And,
Then it’s gone.
Now you have
Nothing.
Unable to decide.
Without reflection,
Without company.
No help gained
By staying.
Cut the straps and
See.
This poem has a person! And they’re not dying. Though they may feel as if they are. The pressures and anxieties of life can seem like worse than death at times. It doesn’t really seem to matter who you are or what class you happen to be a part of. It’s part of being human. Letting go of the fact that you’re finite both spatially and temporally is terrifying. It’s also freeing…
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