A Season


For a season,

I surrendered

to all comforts

I reached

-only for that

which could give me pleasure


I averted

the other’s eyes

and I too

-went deaf

and dumb

to my enemies


I sat in the shade

as idle as idle

can be

while the apocalypse,


on someone else’s



I never struggled

nor felt,

an apathetic disregard

-I simply cast

no shadow

and announced

not a single



My rage sat

like a moon



I let the insects

cover me

as the sun

pressed itself

onto my skin


I spent

all my evenings

dropping matches

as my skin pruned

in the bath


I could see storms

through windowless walls

invisible river flowed

and I heard birds

singing in the dead

of winter


I dreamed

with eyes

wide opened

and was only compromised

-by the part of me

whom couldn’t

help but stomp

my hooves in the dust


There is a comfort,

to going unrecognized

when no one

is around

–Dylan Angell

Dylan is a writer, musician and filmmaker currently based in NY but born and raised in Durham, NC. He has written for Paste Magazine and the travel site World Nomad. If you’d like to talk to him about anything at all he can be reached at dylanangell@hotmail.com

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