Hi-ho and hello.
. . .
By: M. R. Vega
An ellipsis to start, a beginning long from where we’re at, I take my palms to my eyes and squeeze out the anguish of time I’ll spend and wonder where the it’s all gone.
Checking my hands, waving away the monotonous diatribe, monologue me this backward cuz this isn’t sweeping itself up.
I find myself on the run, fleeing in place, stomping on the same grounds for eons now and you wonder to why I haven’t taken to the river.
Why not let my worry run like a baptized soul, maybe just the feet would do. Dunk a toe, wipe away the moisture. Don’t feel much in change, feel more than lies, dunk a toe, maybe for a second time for extra measure, for extra purity.
I take to the sky instead, to the rhythmic splendor of the space between you and I, removing the baptismal opportunity to be resurrected though from ash and soot. Watch me burn to be what I become, like a wolf from the pack howl and run, howl and flee. My pack is hungry
Dream Dark Stories 