Fiction

I have always hated fiction:

Jealous and indignant maybe

Characters with character provided

Hopes and dreams consistent

Fixed futures as foundation

Framing their actions

Progressing toward their destinies

The omniscient Author[itarian]

Directing the heroes’ steps.

But I wake up suspended…

Drifting…

In a paragraph of utterances

From all different languages

Missing pages, no introduction

Just seething guilt that

Someone above is disappointed

That I am not what or where I ought be

And now the whole story is fucked.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s