Scientific Method
Call it a tear in your throat.

I am the long, sleepless night you’ve been waiting for.

One moment here, the next gone -

don’t call 911 when anyone leaves, including me.

Call it a glance.

I am simply here for the ride;

well, the ride of every recollection you may have longed for.

Not to say I do not miss you -

I am an enigma that even I have yet to understand.

Call it a loss. Maybe you, too,

can hypothesize me into existence.

Maybe you can manifest me.

It’s true that the only way to get your answers is by actively seeking them out.

Don’t ask me who I am, though,

I don’t have a response for that.

I do, however, enjoy things associated with dirt.

You know, earth.

Water.

Biological stuff.

Because that is all we are:

mysteries, wrapped in biological stuff…

however, some (mysteries) simply must remain mysteries.

Call it, perhaps, curiosity.

I’d rather die than live a boring life and that’s why I am still alive.
['Cassidy Bishop']
['Poem', 'Personal', 'Experimental', 'Poetry', 'Poet']