Kafka On My Cuffs
written by: TheHumanAnvil
I often notice that the night
Is right time for one to fight with oneself
You are naked with brittle bone
And a heart floating, like stone
Upon the impalpable air,
Air buried in your body
With that weight, as you wait,
For the world to surrender
To bow down as you beg
For the light to be shined in your eyes
For water to be passed through your lips:
A concrete kiss
Of traffic light love
And 9 to 5 passion
So that you may be seen
Laughing, smiling, walking, talking
In the chorus of the human hummus
The room is a soap bubble
Ready to erupt;
They watch me as I speak
A monologue
I oar on speechless sunshine
A mute morning
Born out of
Borrowed solace and forced silence
Like a wall with paintings
Having no onus to be owned
To be entombed or embalmed
With stories other than my own
But yet unable to
Men must not talk of their mental health
I cut my photograph with scissors
The outline cherry red
From the bleeding background
For it hurts to be left alone
Even in the past
It dismembers the delusion
My silhouette without shape
Of a world within with a world without
I am frozen in time
Snow sealed
Half peeled
Body bagged
Soul killed
Most of us mimic
The same mistake
And get better with time
At convincing oneself
That mistakes were truly mistake
And they happen
Around Gravity’s girth
Like a natural law for unnatural things
I too mimic
Practice and perfect
The moment of my death
The last words
That final thought
Fear, Anxiety, Regret and Fate
Should I go closing my eyes
Or will the irony of the effort suffice?
- Kafka On My Cuffs - February 6, 2026
- My Mortal Remains - October 16, 2025
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