the syntax of discernment says it won’t
pull myself from this 12-feet deep,
deprived of sleep,
half quantum leap away dilemma.
————————————————————————
beset on both sides by dichotomies,
brought to completion by my
self destructive tendencies,
ensued decay of any epistemic certainty,
a soul confined within its own infirm and crumbling creation.
its magnum opus of annihilative architecture.
there’s only one thing left to do:
connect the dots.
erase the yeses and yesnots.
————————————————————————
superstition decomposition.
decoherence superposition.
language, truth, and every other
bleached and preached and brazen lie.
beneath the soil that we once trod they all will come to die.
our eulogy will be their lullaby.