by Austin Lam

Our wounds are expected to disappear;
Time, acting as the Great Healer.

And yet,

That which does not kill,
Has left me ravaged and tired.

I am left on a wasteland;
A post-apocalyptic Hell.

“How have you grown??”
They demand!

I have no more to give.

Sinking its teeth into the crepuscular depths,
Leviathan engulfs the remains.

Searching for silver linings;
Conjuring them in dazed hallucinations.

To struggle yet to
Simultaneously give up.

To stand,
And yet to fall further.

A wrapped up cacophony of painful moans
And groans.

In the throes of disorientation,
I grasp for my freedom.

An adulterated freedom,
That belongs entirely to me.

And so I dance
With the demons, claws dug in.

My blood spills forth;
A pallor-stricken, amorphous Vitality emerges.

“How have you grown??”
They demand!

No answer materializes.
No answer is needed.

I await and
Resolutely Anticipate my death.

I recollect a Self,
Clothed in ambivalent certainty.

Austin Lam is currently a medical student at the University of Toronto. He obtained his B.Sc. Honours in Psychology and Philosophy (minor) from McGill University.