SEEING THINGS

It was wild, in my world

tonight…(These) weren’t just everyday,

tracers and loomers, eye was seeing-hulking

figures, (that) stand idle, but always

conveniently, barely visible, to

me and my wasting peripheral vision.

Casting shadows over my task

at hand-my stomach

knows, that enormity, is not

the only oddity-I don’t want

to see. Twisted and malformed creatures,

(with formative dens, in

the darkest, deep places), have always

sought comfort, in

my hallucinatory worlds. But these

unfortunates; low down, drooling, perversions

of a sick and hopeless world, well….

After observing them for (what

may well have gone into tomorrow);

I give them the title of

‘full-on-runners-and-peekers’.

 

[Psychotropic worlds, “they”

write prescriptions to remedy, are

seemingly adaptable-I live in

them, quite comfortably]. (I think

that), this is just a natural course

of my suddenly, (more often,

sullenly), misplaced sobriety. My

attempts to describe, the

things I see, daily, (through disrupted

senses), are pale and ordinary.

If only you could see…through my

red, eyes-through dulled,

binocular vision, (vibrating,

my very core, to its already

unsteady foundation). If only

you could feel…through the castor,

black walls of my

(broken-reconstructed-but-still-

unmended), heart. If only

you could process…these images,

through my limpid, stripped

brain. (Always misfiring, and

blacking out, in dizzying attempts to

function). It’s horror show

fiction-as real as my own

reflection; ultimately imprisoned,

within the confines of my tired,

old soul…unimpressed by anything ,

anymore.

 

It’s not frightening,

or even

unusual. It’s

just another flight,

through the crevices;

the urban

slums, my rural home-

stead…day and

night. A place for

my imaginary

friends

to fight…

 

My World.

 

 

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