Inertia

A Poem by Abraxasbird

an aftermath

Where I am now?
Lingering in the half-life between meaning and meaninglessness,
between occupation and preoccupation, between desperation and aspiration.
Clinging to things to raise my value, but in the storm of time I am always depreciating;
kind of like once the seed hits the road...

This frustrating intellect amuses me, staves the ennui, and maintains the inertia of nothing,
a floating apparition.

Once I was, when our lips met- but now, even that is threatened.
[Enter life as an apparition]
...again.

The faucet, the water runs over my hand and for a moment
that seems like an eternity, still, I know
its just the inertia of nothing,
that cold, clingy, runny saturated feeling that washes
over my soul, down, down, down to the ground.