The Ego & Exodus

Just a snippet.


fully alive and functioning.


something in my palm.

It pulses.


Funny little irregular heartbeat.



Gentle against it's restraints,

it stirs,

tucked beneath

my folded fingers.


It startles me,

and I think,

' I really should get over myself.'


It agrees.


It coaxes me,

without syllables for sound,

and devoid of any mouth.


Funny little thing it is.


It wants to speak,

so I begin to feed it


on a regular basis.

Exodus: a journey by a group to escape from a hostile environment.

It tells me,

"You're too restless."

Full of defiant pride

I simply respond,

"I'm doing fine."


I'll put my hands to good use,

I'd like to do something constructive,

if you don't mind the company.


Staging an exodus,

but I don't know if I should

bring this heartbeat with me.

The End

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