Gavin Austin

Surrender

Will I know if I have it? Will it kill me? Or will I welcome it? Invite it in to settle comfortably beside me like an old friend? Defeat thrashing and wrenching in my gut, steadfastly embedded there like the barb in the jaw of a hooked salmon. Once unclouded eyes, glazing to the spiritless stare of roadkill. A growing ache advancing within, to quietly seep through my tributaries; its suffocating tendrils spreading through bone and sinew. Thought arrested and locked down along honeycomb chambers of the mind; sinking to foreign depths, with a silent ripple, encapsulating me.

does death have a name
a sound or smell
perhaps endings
are beginnings in disguise
I think of love like cancer

---

About the Author

Gavin Austin lives in Sydney, Australia. Gavin writes short fiction, short plays, and poetry. His work has appeared in many Australian and international publications.