A finger *****; a dilation.
The cracked rib on your life side.
I long to paint pictures of the subconscious;
the places we never get to see.
And as the sun starts to set,
as night eclipses over the earth
I will scream until my throat is bleeding.
I will drag my body across the pavement,
punch my fists into walls
leaving the stain of humanity on every street corner.
I will cut across the plain of existence with my fingertips and
I will pull reality from its womb.
I will drag it on the ground behind me
until it is bloodied and worn -
I'll scream in it s face and ask,
Why?
I want existence to feel everything I have felt;
Ten times over, amplified and without mercy.