An outdated ticket traps me in someone else's dream
–––I chug along, postponing realization.
Disdaining the person I was, am, & will still become
–––setting about with sweet self-immolation.

Foisting fears of abandonment upon new neurons
–––I’m Mister Geppetto’s most defective toy.
Increasingly convinced my being lacks radiance
–––for these joints too infrequently hum with joy.

Trying to recall when I was last happy beyond
–––indulging futile dreams of myself unmade.
Wondering if anyone knows that my lights are on
–––with nary a soul at home for decades.

Scattered in the liminal space between time's fine lines
–––I've disassociated with alacrity.
My soul has forgotten something it can't remember
–––like the Grail mislaid in some lost sacristy.

I'm blind, like aged Longinus & his holy spear
–––thick brambles obscure eternity's visage.
How am I meant to rediscover the long-frayed thread
–––of my life's purpose before it disappears?

I'm deaf to veracity’s soft hums tumbling about
–––my serotonin-deprived mind's sad confines.
Overwrought, I declare existence’s blessing wasted
–––moody pessimism numbs every sense of mine.

Pleading once more with my sleep paralysis demon
–––it's three a.m. I wish only for some peace.
For nothingness & the embrace of the endless void
–––to wash over me & see these tremors cease.

Unresolved traumas of past lives distant swirl amidst
–––those which are still yet to usher me astray.
Left rudderless in a wretched mess of consciousness
–––I’ll find the way to Shangri-La someday.

Lying to my reflection in gently cracked windows
–––dull with disuse & fogged by dishonesty.
Hopelessly mired in the muck of bygone millennia
–––myopia, my single measure of constancy.

When passengers arise to love's melodious chimes
–––they gift me their best regrets as souvenirs.
Oblivious that I am to the beauty of this birth
–––my ignorance & their bitterness cohere.

Conscious of how far I am from everything’s meaning
–––I search for the Me who might yet understand.
On all planes of existence, at every moment
–––He bides his time, weighing each grain of sand.

A painful cliche, the lovelorn soul with wistful dreams
–––which reality soon saw me abandon.
As the train halts underneath a panoply of stars
–––I disembark, awaiting new companions.

First published in Arlington Literary Journal, Issue 188

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