Decadent remnants
From a distant youth
Lost in a shadow
Falling into an abyss

Tiny flecks of black
Catch my line of sight
Let me tease their origins
Amid untold and true stories

Misplaced memories
Stored off-site
Easily within reach
Unable to forget

Abstract lacing appears
Another rigged Rorschach
No wrong answer
Unless you agree to the test

Don’t cut me any slack
Soul is already wrecked
This lens has a crack
Better get it checked

Always plenty to give
While the wind still blows
There’s no other way to live
But through highs and lows.

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A poem by Jason S. Sullivan, 11-25-20