The lacy veneer of mortality drapes about my shoulders.
The cluttered mind is the beautiful mind,
Cognition the wax pooling in calderas
Of candlelight.
Transcendence is stifling--
I never realized it could hold such irony,
Now fused like a copper plate
To my inner skull.
Continually we starve ourselves,
And the starvation is reminiscent
To everything we've lacked throughout life;
The metallic taste under the tongue,
Bookcases of beating hearts.
The desire is absurdly overwhelming
To give a shred of my soul to everyone I encounter
Before I disintegrate and have nothing
To leave behind on this world.