nihilo.

The soil I will be buried in will not be an entrapment
but the bed for the comfiest sleep I will fall into
I want to leave with a smile on my face
and when my eyes close I want no light but just the sound sensation of the sheets against my skin
I want a tree to flourish from where I lay.

I play my part, I spin the wheels and I contribute
but I know I don't belong
I am not anything apart from the creativity of my mind
my body chemical, my mind ephemeral
I am the same as you.


X



On the way to Manchester. Reading Nietzsche, serene peace