poniższe jest durne i niczego wartościowego nie wnosi. chciałbym się tu mylić. może kiedyś stwierdzę że się mylę. hm. nieistotne. was fun to write; to wystarczający pożytek.
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sometimes
i think about landscapes of blood and wrenched guts
where whooshing screeches play distorted psalms
like mournful cries of a rotten soul.
i walk on disjointed pieces of matter
questioning gravity when i'm pulled in all directions at once
and all around me there's a swirling chaos of fused concepts
that mean nothing
or i can't figure it out.
i don't know my brain in those moments
and green light gains an alarming hue.
mushrooms like flowers like cockroaches like centipedes
crawl over my skin, making me coughshudder
LET ME OUT
but my voice doesn't come out
because the distorted gravity holds it in and around
my heart, beating in the rhythm of the out of tune humming
that turns into screeching that turns into meowing
i see a cat with a wicked grin blink at me from the nearest railing
and i yearn to hear his wisdom
like balm on my bleeding eyes
but he drowns in blood with me
screeching as he blends in with the swirling chaos
'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?'
i did nothing. it all happened TO me. cat.
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it's not me. it's just a reality that my brain has borrowed from the american mcgee's alice.
i like to play in others' minds. kinda like otherlands.
#5.1.24
CZYTASZ
heart beats
Poetry~ poezje itp ~ w gruncie rzeczy, jesteśmy worami mięsa, kości, i flaków. ale w tym worze mieści się mózg, a mózg to wciąż niezbadana złożoność, która z prostego wora potrafi uczynić święty graal. the heart beats/heartbeats/heartbeat: serce bije, ser...
