I might not even be here, after all there is
Absolutely no incoming communication
I have been, as it were ex-communicated
If that rings true
What is that song about spiders
There is a song isn’t there
Also a book about disquiet
Yes I am certain to have read it
If there is a plan then this is the plan
Bare oneself
To the wave after wave of nothingness
Riot after riot of unanswerable questions
With or without the headphones
Also with or without
Any prior contemplative knowledge
It is after all why I came here
To feel the ache of lost love
To feel the pain of lost love
To wallow
In the decrepitness of such loss
In the very middle
Of the darkest of the darkness of night
