poetry/
Rot

15. 7. 2025

I feel defenceless against this looming dread of a universe so endless that it overwhelmes my senses to the point of paralysis;

so I find my body senseless but my mind escapes, thoughtlessly, endlessly, incessantly running paces in spades;

I stay in place, weightless as my body lays responseless, surrounded by blankets, emptied mugs and dirty plates.

And the staggering, stern, sterile silence makes a symphony of static humming that fills the sparse spaces of my thoughts;

struggling to find a meaning or just something to believe in, I stare up into the ceiling, seething, feeling lost;

restlesss mind trapped inside a stationary body, less than a silhouette in this place that is surely soon to be my grave; I rot.