deepundergroundpoetry.com
Anywhere in the World
Perhaps the nights are interconnected;
perhaps they are one,
a string of values or nulls or voids – voided,
imputed into perception,
Avoided;
For me, they seemed to contain
the substance of broken
hearts, breaking in benumbed porcelain
precursors of pain -
Inoculating the substrate of my brain
with something insidious,
something profane,
something that underpinned my thoughts with silent stains.
None of the broken hearts were mine
as mine had been gone
for some time
and maybe
just
maybe
I was proud and happy
to see
that part of me
in shards
or
Something,
Smashed hard
against
the surface
of
Something.
Nevertheless -
my thoughts, my ideas,
they thrived in this darkness
This
Inoculation,
Giving forth dead flowers
shaped
in shards
Healed, repaired,
Revealed
In midnight hours
Absent
of
Despair
Neither here nor there:
Anywhere.
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