Beneath the humping bedclothes of another drunken Saturday night we are conceived in the dark.
Born from black we gulp for our first breath and are blinded by the light. We are addicted to it. We cannot rest. The darkness must not enfold us.
We scurry into another neon night, searching in the windows for meaning. Scanned like a bar-code. Framed by the light. Anything to avoid the eternal darkness.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please do add your comments here. It's always great to hear from readers!