nonsensical lines of a scribble …

unknotting, woven words,
stitched between folds of unseeing eyes,

glimpses, here and there,

stranded on islands of desolation,
stung by panic,

gasping for breath,
marooned on a sliver,
razored, sharp,

tearing you from the inside out,
and it won’t matter how loudly you holler,

cry, wail,

slipping into worn shades,
of yesterdays souls, worn thin and weary,

these enslaved moments,
of claustrophobic pain,

real sorrow,
today, real,
really now,
not some faroff morrow,

of having worn too many masks,
with nowhere left to hide,

except between the lines of a scribble