yourself from within-
Loads and loads of
tar-loaded goo,
smothering you
and drowning and
gulping you up.
You scream for help,
but from whom?
In an abyss that
echoes your voice
and reflects a
person you have
never met-
How do you escape
the absurdity
you've become?
You, yourself,
spreading for miles
and miles-
an infinite loop
that's bent, twisted,
and turned within
yourself-
A snare,
a void,
an emptiness.
or an open sky?
And that's a tragedy,
or emancipation,
or imprisonment-
you never know.
Wherever you turn,
you end up in yourself.
You are trapped or free,
you never know.
Travelling in yourself
to end up repeatedly
in yourself-
this re-enforced
concrete of self-
Does that make you
a better person or
an infinite loop of
total internal reflection
pushes you into
narcissism?