Corners of Circles

Among the consuming circles, its corners are what I search for. Corners to silence my cacophonies, corners to sit and hug my knees at as I end my loop. For every direction my compass turns to, here I remain spinning on a wheel of the fantasy I've built to put myself at ease. But similar to the reality I wish for, the corners of my circle are nowhere to be found. The only thing found is that I was bound to be watched by the wrinkling world as I cease to exist while the cycle... repeats.

A poetry book by louvingly.