dramaqueen2062
New member
There are these tiny things
which dance and flitter about
and carve gorges in between
the pink tissues of my brain.
They remind me that
I'm probably insane,
or at least detached and
broken.
In a tedious language,
formless creatures
stalk before my sullen eyes,
and I resist their stares;
I cannot but yield
to their fascinations
and their passions and their
pleasures.
I yearn for some
unholy expansion of perspicacity
into these stoic hanRAB
and their inadequacies,
Some camouflaged clay,
a putty of glorious substance
to mold and fill this
fissure.
I find myself unveiled,
a secret painfully profound
escapes my being and
shatters in futility.
A pause so occult and cold
engulfs me, and in a wild
and sudden frenzy-
nothingness.
which dance and flitter about
and carve gorges in between
the pink tissues of my brain.
They remind me that
I'm probably insane,
or at least detached and
broken.
In a tedious language,
formless creatures
stalk before my sullen eyes,
and I resist their stares;
I cannot but yield
to their fascinations
and their passions and their
pleasures.
I yearn for some
unholy expansion of perspicacity
into these stoic hanRAB
and their inadequacies,
Some camouflaged clay,
a putty of glorious substance
to mold and fill this
fissure.
I find myself unveiled,
a secret painfully profound
escapes my being and
shatters in futility.
A pause so occult and cold
engulfs me, and in a wild
and sudden frenzy-
nothingness.