deepundergroundpoetry.com
apathy
what is there
left?
the sound of water dripping
into the empty universe of a
metal sink
watching the walls crawl
like a thousand
chattering
spiders
listening to the ceiling
reciting Chekhov
or the terrified screams
of some poor creature
being set ablaze in the
echoing distance
your eyes,
gone
your hair,
gone
your body
gone
us,
gone
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