Here, Yesterday

We are fictions.

You and I dance without knowing the steps

or hearing the music.

We blind mice trapped

In a wheel we free

-ly run. One of

Dreams and despairs, of

Hope and And’s… but each

and

All are shadows cast.

I am dead, have, been,

Willisareevermorebe-

Coming. The mask is

The mask is the mask

Is the mask. And death;

Eternal friend, foe, Freudian

Ally…

I dream of escape.

The endless, deep, eclipsed-

By-the-ocean state of

Unrest provoked by memory

Of the self as an atom,

Rotating, on the eternal

Shifting seas and tides of

Life which, that, have, will,

Metronomically cascade upon

Smash and crash upon

The shore of

I dream of magic because I want to disappear.

How does anyone live?

How do I stop hurting?

How do I hide?

How do I escape, and from what, and into what?

.

..

…

… … …

My first response is to run.

Run.

Run.

Run.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

Chase the circle; be the oroborus.

It is all, and you are but a scale.

Scale.

Weight weighing weighed.

What do your atoms say?

Umbridge at “you;”

are you the we, the they, the you?

Wouldn’t they rather be free of you,

As you would be free of you?

Who is speaking for who?

Your desires and dreams, your

Wants, you, a waste; mute words on deaf ears.

Hers. Your own. The world’s…

…exercises in entropy.

Does the actor know when they are acting?

What does the character know?

Escape is just a short run-

Jump away.

Every. Time. You.

Run.

You will always be alone.

You and your/you’re is not real,

To anyone.

And, frankly,

No one gives a shit.

Atoms. Smashing.

Run and

Jump.