when there is pain and surreal anxiety

Surreal Buddhist

I am heaping like an
intersection
of instances
dispersing as the floral
loop of sleep
tangibly draped with invisibility
the static beeping of my departure
witnessing the burst of egos
so uncontrollably distant from each other
in the topography of my identity
I am lost between the trees and the forest
I can’t see the wood
for the raw wildfire of my
existence
all I am saying is that I have no control
in moments like these
being a Buddhist
would have been a good idea.
 

Modern Poetry Blog