Quintessential Contemporary
her eyes widened as her soul rushed back in
i left the room
with no comprehension as to her doom.
the paper scratched back
as the pen scrawled with enough force
to leave a real mark this time.
or excuse me, the typewriter
keys play ticks and tocks in my ears over
and over. no one writes with pencil anymore.
what we have done surely limits
our understanding
(just throw yourself with me into the digital sea)
with no boat in sight we are lost in the tide
exactly how we should be:
with no comprehension as to her doom.
time to self destruct some more
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