Circle

This is not
precipitation. Coming from my eyes
are memories. Long forgotten
fears grip me
by the throat. I peel away
until there is nothing.
I will not give in
to the wailing sirens. I pray
to unfamiliar gods. Not too far from here
is paradise. Hell on Earth
this is not.

Sean Cunningham is twenty-three, from Liverpool, and recently completed a BA in English Literature. His writing consists of very short poetry and prose and has appeared in Moonchild Magazine, Bending Genres, and Gone Lawn, among others. He can be found on Twitter at @sssseanjc.