🅿ortals bloom in the fractures of thought,
🆂pirits whisper where logic is caught.
🅸llusions melt into spirals of bone,
🅻abyrinths forming where seeds were sown.
🅾bsidian dreams drip slow like rain,
🅲olors reshaping the edges of pain.
🆈earning minds slip past the skin,
🅱reath becoming a silent hymn.
🅸n the mind’s cathedral, shadows spin..
🅽othing is lost, only awakened within.
Dec 1, 2025
Dec 1, 2025 at 6:51 AM UTC
🅿ortals bloom in the fractures of thought,
🆂pirits whisper where logic is caught.
🅸llusions melt into spirals of bone,
🅻abyrinths forming where seeds were sown.
🅾bsidian dreams drip slow like rain,
🅲olors reshaping the edges of pain.
🆈earning minds slip past the skin,
🅱reath becoming a silent hymn.
🅸n the mind’s cathedral, shadows spin..
🅽othing is lost, only awakened within.
“Psilocybin doesn’t create visions; it lifts the curtains.”
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