Inconsequently A Number Poem by Lauren Vickery

My existence is futile
A convenience to make the numbers
Irrelevant and undeniably a void to fill the space



Aspiring to transpire
Settling in the form of dust
space
and time
Inconsequently, apparent
But entirely vacant

An inconvenient truth
hushed upon
as if
I could disrupt the sodality
Moulded so perfectly, into bliss

A sketch,
which forms the portrait
Although an entirely different image
To what appears

My complex aura
is discomforting
to the ones
who cower amongst shadows of insecurities

Unsettling,
As if I were to embrace the tangled notion
Evaporate like vapor
Lay amongst the realists

Im here,
merely as a number
to fill the void
of faceless faces