I see dreams in a window, being rearranged.
Inside arcs of tingling bars, backlights a
palmate and I am feeling rather strange.
Feelings of raw percussion, cling to my skin.
And I was skeptical at first, until you took my
hand, assured me I wouldn’t feel a thing.
And away and in a second and in a fog.
A daze has left me weary of the talking
to the walls and myself.
Claps of starving thunder, filling my void.
Please, scrape away the tissue, every cell.
I am seeing stars. (But I am feeling just fine)
(Better than before)
Empty, by the here and now.
Even though they seem so familiar here.
Woven through my scars, dance like fireflies
in an esoteric light, there’s something
Reach out, hold the sky’s weight.
Numb to the core, but I do not mind.
(I’m getting smaller by the minute)
And every thought was intertwined,
with every fiber of my psyche and
as I rest my head forever and I
feel myself begin to dissipate…