Night fever
laid the ground
hours spent suspended
in a soft chair
watching fictional cruelty
and quiet kitchens
tissues stuffed
against the slow drip of time.
Now the lungs clear
though the chest still
holds its dark rattling.
Two rivers
widen ahead
one leading
into the maze
of a mind breaking,
the other
into a room
where boundaries
are redrawn.
Madness or the bed.
Either way autumn ends
and the line must be crossed
October 2026 Poetry Project
Day 16 of 31
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