Tears Come More Often,
Of Late.
Wracked with sorrow.
Haunted by loss.
“What’ve you lost?”
Everything.
Until nothing left to lose,
But ourselves.
Still struggling not to let go.
So sick of losing.
Winnowing wins to nothingness.
Pattern Recognition Hell.
Cursed with ugly future sight,
Via numbers.
Winnowing Wins To Nothingness. // Pattern Recognition Hell.
