This carriage holds my skeleton,
yes,
but this frame contains a shadow,
a faint visual blurred at edge,
no solid lines containing the
essence that has evaporated
outwards.

Goal as to be abstract,
once,
there were thoughts and ideas
forming and floating and at one
stage obtainable, but all have
fallen by the wayside as I
travel.

Muted be the world and my
mind,
we have reduced all volume
to the point where noise
follows merely as monochrome
pixels across my failing
sight.

Where might I be allowed to
look?
I am out there, struggling
to return to this shell,
desperately clawing amongst weed
and muck, I can almost see
myself.

Find, find, find, I mutter
hollow,
I am split, driven through,
with each half wandering,
wondering, if they shall ever
combine.