(no subject)

[xbloodliblex]

everything when you think its real shifts poles.
turning the other way, in a breeze that irrigates your eyes.
no predictions, no theories, empty of ideas.
walking the tight rope in absolute ambiguity.
confusion and conflict on the end of every tongue.

the words roll off like fumes around a candle flame.
hoping this tongue is not forked, never knowing for sure.

like a tiny a boy, under the moon with a vertical stare.
insignificant on my knees with hands over head, wrecked nerves.
columns in the distance rounding a performance.
a stage riddled with paragons of beauty and expression.
what was given, with the risk of an end, but no hinderance, never hinderance.

the mental archive, rewriting its files.
spots of white on a long line of black walls.
solar flares in the middle of a vacuum.

so many wave forms. to overwhelm the core.
a rush of dark in the cavity we call our cranium.
if you tear through the curtains, there could be a light.
glimmers existing in incomprehensible black-outs.
take a step, and solid ground holds up.

so reality lost this hand.
and i might be awake now.