0.75
cut the last strands that tug on your sleeve
or the frayed loops will still be caught
pulling you apart slowly
one stitch at a time.
fold them inside or fasten a knot
so cotton cogs don't unwind
-
or light the tips on fire and let each strand melt into one another
roll them between your fingers and feel the sting
but never submit to your own (muffled) voice
of missing
Not a suicide letter, a hopeful mutation by Metatr0nTumultum, literature
Literature
Not a suicide letter, a hopeful mutation
Can you see my every flaw?
All the Sisyphus rocks I haul
Would you say you’re above this all?
Or maybe you experience the same crawl
I bite the hand that feeds the pills, some say against better judgment
But I do it for fear of that it could corrode an important certain something
It may collapse me tenfold to the minus but I refuse the mental dryness
I rather keep exploiting herbs for essence in a black market investment
And be divergent for the sake of the honest Cobain-esque expression
Can I get up of my knees? Differs with the seasons. It ain’t easy to apply a reason
For the simply habit of living, breathing and heart beating