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 Oct 2013 Phobial
Mikitara
pour rice down my throat to staunch the flow of blood
on each grain is a something,
an art,
art through the ages,
my body is an art
I am blur and gray, day and dawn
broken choruses string all the worlds in my eyes together
and force them to sing a something
about eyes like stars
the thing is that I'm not looking up
(I'm never looking up
I'm terrified by the shades that linger in the more upper rings of Hell)
I'm looking down and around and I'm surrounded by stars
this is the bottom of the lagoon
I am an everdrown
Ophelia, wake up!
(she's gone she's gone she's gone)
godspeed starlight swimmer
written by bloodshot eyes or maybe a pencil with fractured lead in between the lines of one of the Bard's books.

— The End —