The edges of Then and Now bleed together
Time is an orb I hold in my hand
Though I cannot recognize my dreams from waking moments
It all tastes the same to my untrained tongue
I can see the spirits dance in the air
Like feathers chained by a passing breeze
They sink and dip and sway
Against my will, my heart sways with them
Drawn from sleep at last, I find Earth void of gravity
I tie myself to the ground with my own innards
Clutching at my own sick flesh
Hoping it is strong enough to keep me bound here
Sounds have colors
And sights a taste
Numbers are bitter, unsweetened coffee
But words are the sweet lull of cloudy cream
In the ground I feel the rotting corpses
In the air I feel the beating of wings
My mind is a swirling, inky sea
And reality a sky I do not know from stone
YOU ARE READING
Various Works
PoetrySeveral collected works of mine that don't really fit anywhere.
