[Suzerain of Sheol]

Anesthesis

This thought is a devastating demand.
And here I linger beyond repose
stranded in manic self-reflection
simulating despair in this charlatan mind
those breaths inevitable
like the tortured steps that carry me
from daylight nightmares
to the nothingness of dreams.

I wake to reminisce on insight
making moments for forgetting brilliance
mourning the memory of a self I knew
solemn and hollow,
this fetal insignificance tied to a futile cross
wasting my weeping on meaningless hurts.

As an eidolon, deified and objectified.
Inimically conscious.
Abandoned.
Ravaged.
Beloved, and alone.

I cannot read my own testament.
And I wish I knew why I cannot care.