I don’t know what to do with this lie.
Do I cherish it?
Pretend it’s true?
Melt with practised moments.
Vaunt myself to air.
Or do I throw it back at you
With spasms of truth
Weighed with words
So dense and compact
You’ll sieve with claustrophobia?
Nothing could disturb the adulation
Resonating in his mind,
His ambition made infernal
By his own divinity,
Residing above all others
While his world turned upside down.
Like a seed,
Dense and dormant in the darkness,
Weighed down with the world on top of him.
But once exposed to affection,
He bloomed with potential,
Rising high spread far and wide.
Anthony tends to fidget with his thoughts in the hope of laying them to rest. He has managed to lay them in a number of literary magazines including The Faircloth Review, The Pygmy Giant, Shot Glass Journal, Turbulence, Dead Snakes, The Bohemyth, Torrid Literature Journal and Jellyfish Whispers, amongst others.