Dregs of Pluto

Eyes leering inward. Looking back on all that was. What was will be. What was there will never be again. Human conditioning has led me down the wrong path. Death is not a door. Time is not a window. Let go. Release from this torment. It’s almost four in the morning, I can never sleep. There’s a light in my room and a light on the street. There’s a wash of color, intangible still. I’m struggling with the memories that the present cannot fill. My open mouth is full of dregs, I'm swallowing the years and its breaking my legs. Can’t move on, the river banks swell. The eyes convey the reason that the tongue could never tell. Let go. Release from this torment. Numb your mind.