blown out flat
Some light, avoiding specifics, drenches my see-through skinned skull slimy aberration piercing to a hapless modular epicenter of course painlessly but vibrant and nuanced rippling through entirety, sluggish limbs and all. I stand quizzically in understanding or stood under confusion a toppling bridge blowing stillborn kisses, its headstone lips crumbling what beauty isdead air contagion hesitant to jump out of this pile of dead/death. somewhere confusion still beckons but i cant feel it in the seconds hung in the air, my entire heaving mass broken and insane unawares of any disharmonious ontological filth, perfectly melodious with the fragility of such thought, of any thought, feet of course on the ground. mine metaphysickness lost. if i really tho--the air would lose itself in the deadness and maybe id be lost in the mess or stuck or disappear destroyed and of course huge part of my brain as cavernous and unknowing as it is undoubtedly finds that refreshing or ignores the total plausibility of such a defiance of space time relations entirely recoiling into a more satisfying half linear cubby dripping unknown or unfit for mentioning vile translucent death and heavier than the precedent of gravity and more well known and the larger part of me really the only part i can even pretend to relate to curls up inside and the spongy membranes swallows into the swampy nothingness of surrendered bliss. i wonder if they'll ever tell me what they really feel. i wonder if ill believe them. i love you. all.