Unfeeling but welcomed,
I'm trapped in paralyses' embrace.
I am small in a lake of cold and quiet,
trapped and left to die a lonely death,
murdered by electric sparks and the quiet looming dark.
I am bitter and fuzzy,
I run on mania and addiction.
I am suspended,
featherweight,
anaesthetised to the pain.
Television corruption,
and radio interruption.
I pull it by the cord,
and out through the plug,
connection terminated,
I think i've caught the bug.
Laughing gas is death,
medication is disease,
my IV drip is poison flowing down to my knees.
My eyes are unseeing,
and my mouth silently screams madness.
I'm eating static,
lock-jawed in place.
YOU ARE READING
Coherence
PoetryThis is a poetry collection that is both ever updating and ever changing. This collection of poetry isn't exactly traditional or ever a solid complete piece of prose, I am ever adding and changing and morphing them into something I feel is better or...
