On nascent evenings
I find myself alone
My head up against an empty wall
While the weight of my mind is destined to fall
Or collapse into a billion pieces.
Luckily, I am not afraid of multiplicities.
Speech becomes paradox, sight remains illusory.
My bones feel cold, my skin burns with fever.
Forever burning, burning, burning
Each second is infernal,
Each alley enlaced in embers.
This burning makes me wander.
I wander wildly taking my neuroses by the hand
I follow blindly, always unsure where I am going.
And the face that I wear leaves no trace for showing.
Evening masks
Descend upon faces
Staring at the sky being brewed,
So blank and embittered
By the countless cups of coffee they drank.
It’s always too warm to take a sip,
So I sit back
I wait as the sky turns deeper,
As it drains pools of dark and rancid liquid,
Foaming at the sky’s mouth, eventually swallowing the sun.
Though the day has ended, the coffee settled too,
My mouth still feels dry and is unable to consume.
The night descends by giving directions
Through darkness. And colored lights
Join the cadence, so does the wind.
It is happening all around me,
But I cannot cut through
And I cannot simply join in.
My eyes are mere spectators
Since sight is all that they have.
And now the sky is melancholic,
So may the drinking begin.
I shall drink the pools that float above me,
I shall scorn at fools who try to teach me,
I shall hate and have hatred guide me,
Until I fall and the ground slaps me
On my smug face,
Until my senses seep into the ground,
And I am left expressionless.
Invisibility is a gift seldom appreciated
The comforts bestowed in darkness are unnumbered.
Too many to count, too many to list out loud.
It matters no more that I am human,
For I am not. I feel nothing, nothing at all.
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 1:41 AM UTC
On nascent evenings
I find myself alone
My head up against an empty wall
While the weight of my mind is destined to fall
Or collapse into a billion pieces.
Luckily, I am not afraid of multiplicities.
Speech becomes paradox, sight remains illusory.
My bones feel cold, my skin burns with fever.
Forever burning, burning, burning
Each second is infernal,
Each alley enlaced in embers.
This burning makes me wander.
I wander wildly taking my neuroses by the hand
I follow blindly, always unsure where I am going.
And the face that I wear leaves no trace for showing.
Evening masks
Descend upon faces
Staring at the sky being brewed,
So blank and embittered
By the countless cups of coffee they drank.
It’s always too warm to take a sip,
So I sit back
I wait as the sky turns deeper,
As it drains pools of dark and rancid liquid,
Foaming at the sky’s mouth, eventually swallowing the sun.
Though the day has ended, the coffee settled too,
My mouth still feels dry and is unable to consume.
The night descends by giving directions
Through darkness. And colored lights
Join the cadence, so does the wind.
It is happening all around me,
But I cannot cut through
And I cannot simply join in.
My eyes are mere spectators
Since sight is all that they have.
And now the sky is melancholic,
So may the drinking begin.
I shall drink the pools that float above me,
I shall scorn at fools who try to teach me,
I shall hate and have hatred guide me,
Until I fall and the ground slaps me
On my smug face,
Until my senses seep into the ground,
And I am left expressionless.
Invisibility is a gift seldom appreciated
The comforts bestowed in darkness are unnumbered.
Too many to count, too many to list out loud.
It matters no more that I am human,
For I am not. I feel nothing, nothing at all.
