(no subject)
Vulnerable...
Thats the way it starts.
Mental impotence-
brain stall
inner wall
city gates keeping its villagers inside
a protective measure
enacted by protective mechanisms
gears shifting into place
locking, sealing every hole
even the rats get stuck inside-
scratching at the edges,
frayed and tattered from nibbling teeth.
Refuse refused its rest in peace
rotting- stinking- stinging the nostrils
accompliced by acrid aqua
mexican tequilla waste,
leftovers for unhappy hour-
the time when villagers show their face
just to get slapped right back to their holes
by the offensive and overpowering odor
of too many outrageous opportunity cost analyses,
awkwardly amassing 'maybes' and 'what ifs'
on the doormats of denizens denying
any kind of careful consideration
when it was time to decide.
And the doorbell's always ringing
never a break
continuance of confusing contemplation
bundling ever more into a knot
of tangling intangibles.
All this ruled over by overlords
walking above with 100 foot long legs
hovering omnipresently over homes
sending and sucking thoughts
dementing alpha and delta brainwaves-
corrupting both the waking and sleeping hours
of its sad victims,
a hypnotic and psychological thriller-
never discovering who killed who-
living forever in the moment of suspense,
when the character is investigating a sound
and the music is building up,
crashing into the mind's rational ability
to comprehend
danger
without the concluding strike of a cat's hiss
or rare instance
when it truly was the bad guy.
Never leaping, always leaning,
toppling over and before the crash a change
compensating far too much and nearly crashing
but like a toy punching bag-
not the gym kind-
never on my back for too long,
swinging forward my fist
shunting away further force
but absorbing it all the same.
Thats the way it starts.
Mental impotence-
brain stall
inner wall
city gates keeping its villagers inside
a protective measure
enacted by protective mechanisms
gears shifting into place
locking, sealing every hole
even the rats get stuck inside-
scratching at the edges,
frayed and tattered from nibbling teeth.
Refuse refused its rest in peace
rotting- stinking- stinging the nostrils
accompliced by acrid aqua
mexican tequilla waste,
leftovers for unhappy hour-
the time when villagers show their face
just to get slapped right back to their holes
by the offensive and overpowering odor
of too many outrageous opportunity cost analyses,
awkwardly amassing 'maybes' and 'what ifs'
on the doormats of denizens denying
any kind of careful consideration
when it was time to decide.
And the doorbell's always ringing
never a break
continuance of confusing contemplation
bundling ever more into a knot
of tangling intangibles.
All this ruled over by overlords
walking above with 100 foot long legs
hovering omnipresently over homes
sending and sucking thoughts
dementing alpha and delta brainwaves-
corrupting both the waking and sleeping hours
of its sad victims,
a hypnotic and psychological thriller-
never discovering who killed who-
living forever in the moment of suspense,
when the character is investigating a sound
and the music is building up,
crashing into the mind's rational ability
to comprehend
danger
without the concluding strike of a cat's hiss
or rare instance
when it truly was the bad guy.
Never leaping, always leaning,
toppling over and before the crash a change
compensating far too much and nearly crashing
but like a toy punching bag-
not the gym kind-
never on my back for too long,
swinging forward my fist
shunting away further force
but absorbing it all the same.