I haven't learned the secret,
save to know that it exists.
I would tell you more about it
if it wouldn't break a promise.
Beyond its weighted words,
I can't be sure it can be heard
but I can tell you how it feels (or so I'm told).
It burns and, though it's searing, it feels cold.

my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and
taste and smell and hearing and sight keep hitting and
chipping with sharp fatal tools
in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of
chrome and execute strides of cobalt
nevertheless i
feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am
becoming something a little different, in fact
myself
Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet
bellowings.

You  were  toying  with  my head, with
how   you   said   the  things   you  said
the  way   you   phrased  them   for  the
better,   then   much worse.    Walk  out
or    walk     away  ,  keep    on    saying 
what  you're  saying ,  but  all  I   hear's
c    o     m    p     l    a     i     n     i     n    g
and      your       echoes       in     reverse.