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It can become overwhelming
when you’re drowning
and locked inside
your head.
The silence of a house
where you hear every
sound it makes
each pop
and chime
the sound of the furnace
clicking on
and it echos through your body
until you can’t take it.
You wind up
searching for escape
under neon –
higher ground
with the same thoughts
but different sounds –
clanking glasses
bullshit small talk
you try to ignore
as you drown from
all the things
spilling out of the hole
in your heart
that golden brown liquids
and white powders
can never fill.
This is your life
and you will never
wake up from it
or swim to shore.
We all drown
in our floods.


Ian Dundas
Ian A Dundas is a 4th generation Montanan who never inherited the family ranch. Instead, he knocked around and stopped writing for 17 years only to now surface in an attempt to regain some failed potential. If there is any. He has been forged by the land, the sudden changing weather, the cities, the small rural towns, and the bars. Ian is a 2003 graduate of Rocky Mountain College and currently works his dead end job in Billings, Montana where he lives in a small house with his dogs.

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