The inconsequential daydreams of a cracked shell (a poem)

I don’t know what this is, but I wrote it anyway.

The sharp edges of fire
every piece of knowledge not mine
empty amidst the fragrant screens
soot, smoke, charcoal, and ash
exceptions to the protocol
of layers and their command of facts

Insinuations in fragments on the ground
next to walls of shadow, doubt, and conviction
false beliefs, internal dogma
shelf lives in decades and centuries
in homes of closets and chambers
behind curtains of pen, ink, and blinders

Her happiness in doubt
every sentiment a drag on her smile
the trouble of it all
a weight on her dreams
and the silence
oh, but the silence

(28 May 2016—posted May 29th)

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