A little too gone to be dealing with life as we know it…
.
.
.
Watch this, and be scared:
Tongue-kissing ghosts of the past,
Let your cigarette-smell permeate every
Cell of my being.
.
Trip-sticky thickness,
Gumming up my mind
Like sun-warmed honey
Between my toes..
.
Laughter stuck in my eyes,
A still-life painting
Composed of glitter,
Star-glazed Litter
Floating through ages of
Desperation.
.
Treading on tip-toes
Through a land of choke-crazy
Apathy,
Crossing hidden borders of
The mind.
.
Listen closely
And hear the angels hum
A song
That is every good feeling you could ever
Know.
.
Why the broken lines?
.
Silky-sad smiles of sorrow surround the evil, for alliteration’s sake. Transient everything encompassed in mutable permanence.
I walk into the wind, knowing that life is looking directly into my eyes, searching my soul for all-too-revealing knowledge.
The scarecrows are smiling, dancing in the wind, screaming for a change of eternity. The dusty tears they shed—invisible to all—fall to the heavens and take their places behind the stars.
Tap-dancing maniacs parade through my world, giggling at jokes that I can’t hear, and stealing parts of me that I never knew existed.
A straight run to serenity, happiness floats through open windows, ethereally kissing us just when we thought it couldn’t get any better.
I feel the everywhen swirling about me like a panicked ghost, I hold out my arms and let life embrace me—a velvet robe of butterflies. The glass-lined sky shatters above me and I am bombarded with the hope that was hidden within.
A squirrel chuckles from the top of a tree, a golden Jun-bug topples mindlessly to the ground. Rain gives rise to tin dust clouds all around me and I realize the storm is here.
There is nothing to be afraid of, for you or for me or for anyone else.
Stabbing gumballs with a dull mind while the world gathers itself for a heated debate. I smile to myself.
Lifting, loving, soft fingertips on the back of my neck just before I slide from my world of dreams. I open my eyes and once again question reality.
I will not try to justify the truth to the rest of an uncaring planet.
Lacking limit, intend it to be, smelling lost dreams washed in from sea. A drop of bottled destiny spills from her eye and runs down her cheek, and I’ve never wanted to smile and cry at the same time so bad in my life.
Banging my head on the top of a turtle shell, the world shines: a juice-painted goldfish in a polluted pond.
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