"'I do not exist,' we faithfully insist." Are the whispers from my demons sitting quietly alone.
I struck a match with open hand, to burn the bridges to the land. It'll take more work to mend than anyone would know.
Coins and marbles flood the floor, as I run out of the door. "Another drink or two?" They insist, "it wouldn't be a chore."
If I've made my way from sea, then what anchor could this be? Keeps me treading water 50 feet from shore.
I do not exist, it is only You which do. I am not but shadow cast of a man I never knew.
This poem feels like someone
This poem feels like someone caught between sea and shore,
spilling fragments of self while reaching for something beyond.
The refrain “I do not exist” lands heavy,
but the nautical imagery keeps it moving, almost like a song half‑sung.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver