an inquisition of values

it seems pointless now
standing back
viewing past events,
traumas.

it’s pointless to regret or lament
the past

held down, force fed, ‘it’ matters
(constantly in my face)
until i pass out
and dream of non-descript incorporealities.

look up,
around, inside, outside
open your/my eyes

the world is whirling;
with people,left, right,
back, front
and ‘in between’
arguing circles,
consoling hurt pride.

i touch the water with my toes
cold
it is of no consequence,
i murmur to myself.

i want to scream, ‘it’ doesn’t matter,
it has no bearing on anything,
it is irrelevant