Bone cave. Capable of holding the life of
death. Perhaps waiting
is death enough. If only convincing was
needed: all will be well;
all manner of things; be well, be well. Been
swallowing placebos,
knowing their lie—they prove less effective
when death is needed
for biology festering inside. Maybe truth
is void—death without
life. Only in the mind—this narrative of
mine—a personal Hell—
isolation—punishment—just—divine—
