"Falling?"
"To pieces."
"Insanity?"
"It's ceaseless."
If you've read it and seen it on the paper that TELLS you to believe it you should trust your spirit it talks can you HEAR it? The pull of your heart and the jab of your mind leave behind wakes of memories OH so unkind can you STOP. Yes this is an abstract act a set of anomalous points that line up like those train TRACKS things left behind stop FOLLOWING you don't need to know to UNDERSTAND and if you still don't, don't REPRIMAND just because you can doesn't mean you should power and RESPONSIBILITY where is the ability labels for labels I prefer ANONYMITY in this e-city just another face with thoughts behind yet who are you to judge what's going THROUGH MY MIND and out my mouth.. oh dear this is going south but LOOK your eyes dart towards the sky, how odd I wonder where I wonder why, what happens to the frames of you left behind, do they fade or remain STILL in the unmoving SLIGHT tremors as your breath leaves chills on the side of my neck so little MOTION except for the emotion conveyed leaving us dismayed gasping trying to BREATHE I'm doing it again it's PATTERNS and I'm a self-made control variable once again I am the lightning that runs through the flesh I am the body strapped to the mesh the bone the heart the STOP
Stop...
Typing meanings in virtual form, why do I do this every day swirling a new storm I'm TRAPPED yet no form can be used to harness a CRY except a tear but I'm afraid both my ducts have long ago run dry I TRY but I trip myself up as I run I touch I speak "Um?"
"From Umbridge?"
No the train is COMING it can see you stop RUNNING but it's more fun to catch the prey the blood pumps faster but the real meal is feeding off the strays, the GLIMPSES behind and peeks of fear, expressions IMMORTALISED in eyes impaled on teeth in mouths that leer and snarl and sneer it's NEAR a note an 'O' marked with an 'X' YOU'RE NEXT NO EYES NO EYES NO EYES the windows to the soul are barred, the gateway to the mind forever locked by the red queen of HEARTS pulled towards producers PARASITE feeding without feeling, maybe the leaves of a yew tree may one day come fall and heal thee
