pinch a piece off your sweet oblivion. roadless venture, way of which leaves me stupefied, on the brink of accepting predestination as a means to exist in stasis with placeholder ordained as wisdom's possessor, despite how misguided such tradition may be.
🤘
single file down to a riverside boat launch. haze hangs heavy on mind & surface alike. a trail wanders off, i meander, in search of a spot to rest this head, always buzzing, for a moment until the barrage resumes. no cover except the trees i find promise in. no questions to beg, no retort to save face. only leafy shade, under which, their searchlights cannot find me.