(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.

i can feel it when you wake up
and when you (gaspheavy)
walk.

i can feel each morning whisper
like a lonely star
on the arm of
a galaxy
that ends in your eyes.

i can push
myself
onto your
stomach
and live there forever

and you can struggle against me
(but i will always win)

i can absorb you.
and you like it.

i can cry
with the pitpatter
tear drops
of a million raging
cloudy (skystreaks)
because i am everywhere

but you-

you-

are everything.

a beautiful mirror for me to
stare into infinitely

because your eyes are tiny reflections
of what they see

and your body is the earth

and i
am the
bubbles
in your
blood
that
keep you (alive)

and i am the nothing
in your starry fingertips,
or the nothing
you look through
to stare at the sky

and i(nothing)am

are everything.

and you(nothing)are

nothing without me.

i exist (am the spider in the sky)
listless drips onthrough
leaves
that
tickletouch my
(bodiless; body
and i caress
each tree
like a distant lover
and each leaf (are the earthen fingertips)
is the
strangling fruit
that lies in the
hands of the sinner.

and i am the sinner.

and i(sinner)am the
quiet roar that
touches your
chest when
the earth
wakes each morning.

and i(sinner)have
come to take you away.
because when they burn you
to bits-
((the sinner : the hyena) that
needs for the fleshscraps.)

and it hurts
when you breathe
because you
bite me like an apple
and your lungs
are teeth.

and it tickles
in the trees

and i (am the spider in the sky)
have got you
to eat you like a bug,

and you sit in my web,
and admire the view.

She caresses
my
chest
while I walk
and we're
tumbling on a
horizontal
plane
and I
need her
hands
to
hold me
lest
I tumble drip into nothingness.
My body
and
her body
fold
together
and
my hands
and
her hands
intertwine
and
she looks
me in
the eye
without blinking
and disappears;
the seductive songs of the wind.

You stop to point at the moon in the sky,
but the finger's blind unless the moon is shining.

One moon, one careless finger pointing --
are these two things or one?

The question is a pointer guiding
a novice from ignorance thick as fog.

Look deeper. The mystery calls and calls:
No moon, no finger -- nothing there at all.

i was drawn up on a piece of
paper and tossed in the breeze

surrounding lives resound
voiceless breaths of
the windpipe of a lover

i have never met.

why else would people
stare straight through
me, gloomy glances
from my paper pupils
into angels eye sockets,

and they think that i'm human
and they think that i'm like them
and they think beautiful
thoughts on rainy days
while i'm stuck.

eyes manifest imagination into
each person's planet

but not me, what i see
reflects back and all i
can do is be what i believe
i see.

in
san
i
ty

is

ta
king

its

toll

on

me

and

i

don't know how much longer it's gonna be before
i gotta gasp for breath.

people worry when i rant,

but they don't get it
people fall in love with
people

how could anyone love me
if i don't see a person

when i look in the mirror.

shadow-whispers sing to me
and cloak me in black
cloth and when they took the
cloth off.

i hate linear equations and
computations and
numbers
because
people love numbers.

linear thought blitzes
right through me
because
I
am
a
contradiction.

chaotic enough
to be a hurricane
stuck in the body of
a person.