(no subject)
There are bubbles in my head which are blocking the blood flow that is necessary for my heart to dance. I shake, I jump, I stand on my hands, but all they want to do is continue to multiply. They turn colors as the wine I sip seeps into my brain. When I try to wiggle my finger through the drum to pop them they begin to change form. Triangles, squares, and cones at first but now more complex. Snowflakes and spiders, flowers and dragons. I can see all this when I close my eyes. It's projected in front of me on a 2 dimensional canvas. They are beautiful but I start to cry as the pressure they exhibit builds. Sharp burns run to my scalp. I can see rings made only on Saturn and the salt tastes like sweet sweat.
Suddenly my senses are shot from a ringing at the door. Everything is lost. I freeze. Sitting there motionless and unsure, I am glued to my seat and my thoughts. Nothing is important. Go away. Go away. Go away. Another buzz shocks the hallway. Without another thought I rush to the door. The peek hole provides a small silhouette. Very familiar. I open the door with wonder for my land lady. She drills me sweetly with apartment etiquette then slips away.
Where was I? What was I doing? It's time for bed, but my head throbs with questions and desires. I can't feel my heart. No dancing, no pounding, no motion.
Lifeless is what I've become. An object. Slowly sleep dances upon my eyelids so I can charge up for tomorrow's bullshit.
Suddenly my senses are shot from a ringing at the door. Everything is lost. I freeze. Sitting there motionless and unsure, I am glued to my seat and my thoughts. Nothing is important. Go away. Go away. Go away. Another buzz shocks the hallway. Without another thought I rush to the door. The peek hole provides a small silhouette. Very familiar. I open the door with wonder for my land lady. She drills me sweetly with apartment etiquette then slips away.
Where was I? What was I doing? It's time for bed, but my head throbs with questions and desires. I can't feel my heart. No dancing, no pounding, no motion.
Lifeless is what I've become. An object. Slowly sleep dances upon my eyelids so I can charge up for tomorrow's bullshit.