Poem

Poem


When you are lost, do not think of me
for I do not exist. Perhaps once
there was a semblance, what we regrettably
call a ‘likeness,’
but this has long since left,
and all you know of me
is an image long passed.

I have turned over to a realm of nothing,
simply by closing my eyes once too many times.

When you are needing, think not of me
for I am not here. And besides
loneliness is just
an illusion we show ourselves
when we are too bored
by our individual nothings.

We turn over to a realm of objects,
awash in a shallow stream of antiworlds.

We go spinning through this constructed silence.


Published by

A. J. Sahnow

Author of The Groop, available on Amazon in print and Kindle. Also poet, writer of short stories, musical recording artist, Dungeon Master, erstwhile filmmaker. Graduate of Film Studies, BA Hons First Class. Twitter: https://twitter.com/SahnowScribbles | Music: https://nounverbnoun.bandcamp.com/ | Short films: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFgGw0vS7jWVWnEoGtHJxKw

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