P. Jones

Broken Compass

Don’t read this pit that resides below the depths of self pity

Lost at sea would be an improvement

It would make more sense than being Lost at land

Here there are roads, maps, signs, landmarks, people

Where is the massive quiet ocean

My soul floating like a decaying cadaver

Lifeless, tasteless to the creatures swimming below

Help? … no, don’t

Go away and leave me be

The stench dissipates before hitting the shore

No one will ever know