There is pain. Lakes of pain, seeping and viscous, surface shuddering at the rise of a slow boil. I am miles of pain from the hazy coastline, wracked with weariness, and see as much a sanctum I might reach in the surface of the moon. Bitterness and habit drive my deadened limbs to tread; I endure, but I may not escape.
COMMENTS
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Joli
16:25 Apr 18 2011
Vivid and palpable. I can feel this pressing down on me.
Joli
11:18 Oct 21 2024
And in this morning, while the sun still slumbers, I tread these waters.
Joli
23:58 Nov 07 2024
Did we both escape? I hope we did...or maybe we are still in the process of escaping. I'm pulling for us both.