What shines, shines

What does it matter, the letting go of the clouds, the
falling, no way to recant, no way to stop, falling

through the deepest night, the dark, greasy with pain.
Everything hurts here, the throbbing nothingness, the

shivering quiet, even the stars bleed inside. Time is
no longer linear, but funnel like, dragging me down,

memories of the future colliding with anticipation of
the past, but what does it matter when what shines,

shines because it has no choice and what doesn’t, bears
the burden of sight? The raw skin of the moon is scarred

with stories it cannot read, is the rough moan that
escapes its lips a song, a secret, a broken cry for help?

5 thoughts on “What shines, shines

  1. “Time is no longer linear, but funnel like, dragging me down,” puts into words the feeling I have these days, that I could not have expressed so well.

    Like

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