screaming for escape

The Young Virgin, 1630, Francisco de Zurbaran

The Young Virgin, 1630, Francisco de Zurbaran


there is no god so i am witness to my own follies.

you are one among a million of them,

rotting in my ear canal,

screaming for escape


safer to swim



do you feel misguided because you’re the one steering the ship?

fog racing on the back of wind, a faulty needle pointing at nothing

and everything all at once.

long rough hair whipping against your skin, sensitized by the cold,

eyeballs watering, sores bleeding, back crimpling, folding like paper.

you hear the voice of someone asking for security

and the first instinct is to push that voice over board.

it would be safer to swim in the unknown ocean than lose yourself on an unnamed ship.