Thursday, November 17, 2011

2:30 am

Everything is unwound, unbound, untoned, unchained all over again.

Funny thing, that wall of scared and hate and petrified,

it bounces up

and down

Like a sick jellyfish wobbling where it should be standing


I think that maybe it’s all a matter of clouds, and perspective on the sky

- like that comment on the moon a few nights away -

whether the weather rains or suns on me, that jellyfish still keeps wobbling

But I suppose that’s better too, than the rock solid, diamond strong other something,

which used to be a cosmos at the inner pieces

of inside.

When it was all veins and beats and tired, worn-out muscle that strained and pulled and drained

and became a sort of essence to what I believed my core to be

Now, the mist seems to clear - terrifyingly bright the outside is - and smiles become truthful,
rather than


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