In the nighttime we shriek with all we held within us during the day; every moment of unease and uncertainty, every moment where we failed to understand quite what we were doing, walking down corridors of buildings with no meanings, watching faces with no eyes moving lips that spoke no words. In the nighttime the monstrosities of waking life emerge, and the buildings that were the prison and the heaven of our coherent selves lengthen and stretch – corridors with no end, endless crowds with unknown, purposeless and myriad limbs and orifices, spewing nothing and everything as we struggle and fight our way towards nothing, for the days have no end… but our dreams do.
© Copyright 2016 Victoria Klis. All rights reserved.
Miscellaneous / Literary Fiction
Miscellaneous / Other
Poem / Other
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