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Writer's pictureKalina

A Thought



Flowing through a river, down the vein and up the arm, inside the neck, up to the brain,

A clogged pore the size of a lump that obstructs justice

A pause and a glitch inside a perfect system meant to be broken

A flawless thought dreading existence

Mindfulness beyond fulness to the brink of explosion

Don't look back, look no further, stay still and in the now

But now is not the time

The time is tomorrow, what is the time, he asks

Sometime o'clock spinning around the gears

The years, gone and coming in full speed

Slapping the face, hitting the floor, weaving a basket of tears

Dripping through the ceiling, forming a puddle under the pillow

Sinking deeper, goose feathers, warm leather

Reaching the door only to find the window to the soul

Peeking in the darkness blindly but no eyes are present

A blank stare, a face made of clay

Morphing, shaping, slithering like a snake

What was I thinking

An extra large ice cube blocking the way

Cold and perfect like a clog in the drain.

Stay now and be silent

It's that time of day.




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