Threads now severed are all that was left
holding together some facsimile of sense
crafted from the mud of days
repeated repeated repeated
and never lived, only felt
washing over skin like a veil carved from marble
The face beneath is screaming
choking on absurdity
as its own hands grip the walls
dragged down ever deeper
searching for air in lifeless barrows
beyond a maze gate hanging from its hinges
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What do you consider a luxury in your life?
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Photo by Ricardo Soria on Unsplash
The Light is On 
9 responses to “Mud of Days”
Your family being around
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Indeed! Cheers (:
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Nicely done my friend and I just love that you are reading them. Hope you are well and all your family fine. 🤗
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Electricity and running water.
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They truly are luxurious! Cheers (:
LikeLiked by 1 person
Peace and quiet. Quite a deficiency of it. Beautiful writing! 🙂
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Can never have enough, for sure. Cheers (:
LikeLiked by 1 person
Time, solitude, company and health.
And desert boots.
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Love it! Here’s to having more than enough of all of them.
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