When the Roof Feels Like its Coming In


I cant explain it
but the pressure on the outside
doesn’t meet the pressure from within
and i’m diving down for safety to
the bottom whilst my pressure hull is
creaking groaning cracking with the strain
and we hold and pray beneath our breath
that tolerances made by makers many miles away
can be exceeded.

Within my panoptical network vision
people starve, drown and beg for food
whilst in my head I argue with anyone
and everyone, all comers to the nights event
and amidst that building pressure , as I
hear the rivets pop like gunshots
I dive, as deep below the waves the pressure there
might equalise the pressure of the thoughts
kettled within my head.

In murky silence near the bottom,
crushing force upon me,
silence, nothing, negation
Pressures equal.
Within this place dwells nothing
Invisibility, absolution.
Here in the inky blackness the creaking has stopped.
I breath. I am alone.
and repairs begin anew.


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