Trapped within a contract catching the black widow

Look for that Exit sign above the door. Broke on a fall, two legs for most and a door knob boring into the ground. Twisting and turning, catching the latch quick on the upturn. You cannot wait to leave if you only wait to leave now.

Sounds like hope. It really does. Only problem is that hope is a deaf boy sitting, signaling black into the corners of the elbow. Sounds of false reason ready to scratch and rip with an almighty wind. Takes what little breath remains. Heartless hopelessness. Sounds like every other day.

No Exit signs exist however, as people themselves are only playing in movies at the far end of town. Where the dust settles claims and rights. Playing on an endless loop with credits that never end. Starts beget ends and flow right around again into the beginning. No ends beyond. No beginnings to bake fresh breads with.

Life leaves this then with muddy soles tracking the dirt of existence from the front of house into the back rooms. Deal with it. No vacuum exists in any other such void. Breathe deep and find the visions splendour of seagulls coasting along the horizon.

Thank not, suffer you will at the hands of another day. And it's all ready for you. Are you ready for it?