the darkness is upon us

raining down from overhead
its thick inkiness bleeding into the pages we’ve tried to keep clean
i’ve never been one to fold down corners
it isn’t always about where you are that matters
but where you’re going next
and how you’re going to get there
pages past are still part of a future untold

i can’t keep up with the spillage
it’s spreading faster than my mind can outwrite
i suppose all lines are meant to be rewritten
there is no unchanging story
no done that can’t be un
but this internal buzzing
can it fuel me past this uncertain tempest?

we’ve weathered storms before.


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