(no subject)
stories.
You have that worn skin, the one you left back there. Where you watched crows circle like vultures, swimming in ultraviolet, in fluid clouds. There was a sound and it shook your legs. Subsonic waves roll into your cavities, drain out the matter. At war with corrosive frequencies. Now you lay in an exhausted body, remembering what its like to wake back up. Know your consciousness again and beg for dreams. Everything is real. You're standing in a storm.
rested, this is rest i thought, but its a difficult triumph. strain to keep my eyes on it. try to prevent nerves
from flipping over into knots. flinch and relapse, trial and error. solidify my grip and hold them steady.
Paranoia is common, a close friend. right by my side for years. confusion is readily available,
no prescriptions required. shake its hand every day - perspiring with a grin. a doubt meets every thought
wondering if words get shaky, regardless, they have to flow. they have to escape the pressure in my chest its peaking, that rotten feeling. my back compressing, pushing for implosion. phobias awake with angst.
everything inches from my face, distrustful of my own thoughts. pores like wells of blood. eardrums numbed and sealed with fluid. the sound is blank and white, a sea of tranquility in the ocular plain. this is suppression and its vital. hidden from the air, the network adapts, represented by a knot of nerves. the visions show their faces at times, of one lie in two bodies. channeled into physical ailments.because they are lighter on the scale. and ill take that any day. i deflate, remember the tones ,how they resonate the healing. my throat can construct some meaningful words. but i would rather hum. i would rather drown in harmonics. and remember the tones.
A REM state paradise. I know im here. Something green, something to replace my sheet metal surroundings. I am alone and meditative, not stuck. I am at no loss. It feels so pure, my stability maintains. But if you trust your surroundings so much its hard when the grass starts to char. The cinders fly and fields are burning. Lost in the rising heat. Armies of awakened electrons. An orange ocean on all sides. The sky lit up. My muscles flared. Absence.
You have that worn skin, the one you left back there. Where you watched crows circle like vultures, swimming in ultraviolet, in fluid clouds. There was a sound and it shook your legs. Subsonic waves roll into your cavities, drain out the matter. At war with corrosive frequencies. Now you lay in an exhausted body, remembering what its like to wake back up. Know your consciousness again and beg for dreams. Everything is real. You're standing in a storm.
rested, this is rest i thought, but its a difficult triumph. strain to keep my eyes on it. try to prevent nerves
from flipping over into knots. flinch and relapse, trial and error. solidify my grip and hold them steady.
Paranoia is common, a close friend. right by my side for years. confusion is readily available,
no prescriptions required. shake its hand every day - perspiring with a grin. a doubt meets every thought
wondering if words get shaky, regardless, they have to flow. they have to escape the pressure in my chest its peaking, that rotten feeling. my back compressing, pushing for implosion. phobias awake with angst.
everything inches from my face, distrustful of my own thoughts. pores like wells of blood. eardrums numbed and sealed with fluid. the sound is blank and white, a sea of tranquility in the ocular plain. this is suppression and its vital. hidden from the air, the network adapts, represented by a knot of nerves. the visions show their faces at times, of one lie in two bodies. channeled into physical ailments.because they are lighter on the scale. and ill take that any day. i deflate, remember the tones ,how they resonate the healing. my throat can construct some meaningful words. but i would rather hum. i would rather drown in harmonics. and remember the tones.
A REM state paradise. I know im here. Something green, something to replace my sheet metal surroundings. I am alone and meditative, not stuck. I am at no loss. It feels so pure, my stability maintains. But if you trust your surroundings so much its hard when the grass starts to char. The cinders fly and fields are burning. Lost in the rising heat. Armies of awakened electrons. An orange ocean on all sides. The sky lit up. My muscles flared. Absence.