dreams slip into your mind
as you slip out of it.

Under the branches

it is quiet and pitch-dark –


time doesn't rustle here.

In the double pane

window I see a shadow –


of me on my back.

The whole world turns black
A perpetual feeling
I fade into you.

You are familiar,

I always see how you feel –


yet I do not know.

Haha what ******* absolute gibberish.
The screen is glazed with honey.
Words. What are words when the honey is so sweet. Sweet enough to drown out insignificance.
The screen of honey is strong and is a sieve for *****.

The sudden realisation that you're toxicaly self aware is poisoness and astounding and who the **** even cares. You're a hippo you're a butterfly, a god. And you're deeply, unrepentantly alone. In your hole. Down your well. Floating in a stream up that doesn't exist.