nihilistic roadrash

i can feel
my malformed soul
jerking in
irritation inside
my flesh coffin
restrained by
the limitations
of meat and bone
incapable of escape
refusing to accept
the chemicals are
the only real part
of this marionette
no blue faeries
or wishing upon
space trash caught
can cease the horror
of existing only
to return to dust
seeking snippets
where the abyss
lovingly churns
a reminder of that
singular paradise
devoid of light
devoid of thought
devoid of being
only to face the fact
that this has all
been an illusionary
distraction with
zero purpose
grasping at impossibilities
yearning for a
smidgeon on truth
in the inherent
incalculability of
abstract eternities

so many ingrained
survival traits
forcing us along
as death buzzes
just behind our
every failing step
seizing these
momentary connections
before being stripped
of any plausible hope
suffering alone in
a mocking silence
reverberations of
the coiling arms
as the void reclaims
the fading light
from unseeing eyes

sitting in another
empty parking lot
on my day off waiting
to be summoned
the ingredients for
chicken tortilla soup
wait my patient
and loving hands
to bake some cookies
and pretend any of
these fleeting moments
might not be my last

i have been stranded
lost and listlessly
reaching out for hands
that remain balled fists
slowly sinking down
into the high tides
of a low depression
long grown bored of
pretending i am content
spitting into the wind
in a flaccid state of
sorrow filled rage
detached and dismissed
another albatross floating
farther out to sea
slowly forgetting
the sound of dry land
pressing my ear to
cracked conch shells
only hearing the
comforting murmur of
the silence in the dark


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