On the Cusp

There is an indifference brewing, an apocalypse at the bottom of my cup. ‘I regret to inform you that…’ when the rain falls, I will taste it. Move with it and not against, like fire, somewhere lost in-between the engulfment.

Somewhere atomically scattered, where you can still feel the animal in your bones, and the soul trickling down your lips, the voice amidst the thunder.

Somewhere the path opens up, a bit brighter, comfortably lost in the center of this meandering chaos, where these friendly shadows become something to follow home.

written by H.A.Laine, a US-based Writer & Poet

Thank you for reading!