Sitting quietly in the dark the flame flickers I pray the wick will burn down consuming thoughts flick through my mind as if it is a Kinetoscope Nothing but illusion sometimes silent and black and white as I only observe a recap, emotionally removed.
It is the ones in Technicolor with surround sound that I can’t escape Raw, unedited, and no continuity A start with no finish, no happy ending As if there is a loop in the reel No need to rewind because the film burnt away Ignited in a spontaneous combust Some things aren’t meant to rest in the can nor, worthy of the cutting room floor Best, if it had been accidentally exposed
Also published on Medium.