Existence is a funny thing. It finds us in strange places. It speaks to us in harsh language. It touches us in it’s own unyielding way. Existentialism is funnier.

poetry

Teeth cut deep to soul
not to flesh
I am unaware

The lights are running past
I know one thing
I hear air escaping

And now unstrapped
And now upright
The air escapes again
There is more this time

Louder

The brakes catch all at once
A sudden jerk
No one is moving
Everyone is moved

The air sucks back in I think
The lights are running past
and again

I think

I am unaware

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