The weight that falls before me is crisp

Depth of it seems almost unworthy to mention

But every time I imagine the signs of death

It becomes of me dead and delighted

To part onto a new soul who isn’t willing

To fall; it is but a deadly turn that

Life calls sooner than intended, and I

Fall again before it, driving into my flesh

It is soaking in my skin, the blood

Rushes into my head, and I’m free again

But the freedom I feel is a caught humanity

One response to “Caught”

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