Ontologically speaking,
We’re all going to die. Some point. Some time.
The incessant grapple of where and when, and how, and who(s)e?
The delusion of why
In a capsule all your own, you keep it at bay.
You live, you breathe.
You feign master }}}}
The sine wave thickens.
A trick of the universe
A prick down your spine
Unfolding
You scream quietly into your hospital linens
I got mine.
I got mine.
I got mine.