oblivion, July 30, 2018, 14:11:29 – 14:13:27

the enemies don’t know what to do with themselves.
questions remain debt.
the sun throws up the corners of the world.
oh, the poem hisses inside me.
to constantly take responsibility for being coherent.
makes, grows within,swells,colours.
the world is a white knuckle.
oh, sorry, that’s the bell, gotta go.
the thoughts unravel and fray at the edges.