Of A Supervising Adult
Light leaks from her world
As her parents' voices fade and doors close
In the house she suffocated herself in.
She tries to weave what's left
Into an inky snapshot, but
Threads exceed fingers.
The difficulty, she'd swallowed, would lie in the honesty:
Plagiarist voice in a teen aged brain
Citing the Impossibility of Daring.
Relinquished to the tangible pulse
Taken for purpose
Definite. Plentiful. Permanent.
Leaves victim to
Not meant to be
My words chain'd by English,
I admit to my confessor
That I am ignorant. Unable to control
The flow of cathartic exo-conscience.
Screaming is not Singing,
But it feels
The light drains away without a gurgle, leaving only stars.
Meaningful in their unimportance,
Are lost to the singularity.
Should I sell the pen and buy bulbs?