I dreamt that wax
sqeezed out from my ears
like toothpaste.
Dripped onto my feet
casting a mold.
Statuing my legs.
Zipping up my hips.
I dreamt my throat
was a metal pipe
running dry.
Vibrating echoes
cut short and
replaced with a dusty ellipsis.
Passively shrinking
inside a shell
that I'll never be
strong enough to crack.
How did this happen?
How did the thing we're made of
become the thing to **** us?
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 9:11 PM UTC
I dreamt that wax
sqeezed out from my ears
like toothpaste.
Dripped onto my feet
casting a mold.
Statuing my legs.
Zipping up my hips.
I dreamt my throat
was a metal pipe
running dry.
Vibrating echoes
cut short and
replaced with a dusty ellipsis.
Passively shrinking
inside a shell
that I'll never be
strong enough to crack.
How did this happen?
How did the thing we're made of
become the thing to **** us?
