Vague Drowning

I stepped from the car covered in acid.

The picture burned in the sun.

I didn't know what wanted me.

I needed what I wanted, but didn't live.

Vague.

I am so vague.

A symbol among the green echoes.

Thus, I am vague.

So vague.

I'm alive, now, but never was I then.

Like a square forced to be a circle, I bend.

Candy wrappers collect dust.

Glass screen become transparent again.

The acid fades.

And just when I found my skin scared,

The hum of whiteness smoothens,

And the Vague is no longer Vague.

But deserving should I had ever been Vague.