silent rage

this town
has become a tomb
to me.

this place
where I dwell
turned toxic
even before my time
but it is now
more than ever
that I feel
the burn.

one
must exist
where one
works
into the puzzle,
fits
into the hole,
feels
less desperate,
less desolate,
less alone...

regardless
of the risk
I must flee
forward
into a life
I cannot yet comprehend.

the dark streets
and vacant glances
and the abundant
desperate
angst
all seeps into me
like poison
and I can feel myself withering
on what little vine
is left.

the breaking point
has been breached.

let the flood
begin.