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Pining for a Moment
pining for a moment
away
a moment away from the tedious clutter
of one’s ragged self
one’s wretched being
one’s displaced identity
yearning for a moment
away
a moment away from the idle banter
of one’s swirling mind
one’s lashed thoughts
one’s squashed form
reaching for that moment
away
a moment away from the tattered now
of one’s chattering shell
one’s raw fractures
one’s false truths
attaining that moment
now
a moment lost in its hollow self
in its empty cacophony
its silent despair
its quivering impotence
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