Cognitive Sweat

Iced And Diced

Closing The Song Around Me

▬❈▬

We're supposed to be a

family within this circle;

this likeminded circle

of a minor vocal plethora.

There's already

so much irony 

going into this concept

meant to be so beautiful

and homely;

we come together as one

yet we don't all

see each other in a positive light...

I can't feel my thoughts

but this one stings,

and sitting in the bunch personally

stimulates my tear ducts

and unusually 

leaves the aftertaste of

a bitter chemical

sliding back in my throat

as I heave in clean air.

As closed-in as we are, and

as knitted our own divides are,

I was especially gasping while choked

at the thought of

my outcasted nature

closing such in even more...

Guilt Without Its Existence

▬❈▬

Everywhere I turn,

electrocution sounds out

every syllable of my name.

There's no escape,

yet I don't know how I got here.

An unexpected yet

shrouding guilt warns me

of what's yet to be discovered

even when not applicable, 

and there I drown in

immeasurable possibilities

and a skittish takeoff

in one suffocating place.

When The Migraine Begins

▬❈▬

How are my eyes still intact

while I'm lying here, thinking

that they are bound to keep sinking,

catalyzing my struggle to relax?

Like slithering ooze

leaving lava tracks behind

and reaching up to my skull

as they maintain their apathetic flow,

hiccups yearn whatever's ailing

to slide out from my throat,

but instead taking such frustration out

on my every cognitive duty.