...

Only to Forget I Exist,
I sleep.

Even in fatigue, flouting
That which will flicker
into inconsequence, what still remains
of a flame illuminated.

Like a neglected lover,
to whom I crawl into bed:
A soul weary where
the animal roamed freely,
marred by the filth of depravity.
Indifferent, I am here again.

Like an irrational decision,
from the strain of a polar consciousness:
It’s sweet and soothing,
free of obligations or guilt.
Indifferent, I am here again.

But like an unappetizing choice,
Safe and plain, and always there:
A calm stability, a welcome cushion,
To disentangle me from the web
of free will and individuality.