Foggy brain,
Stains on these ventricles, thudding.
In front blind; behind is beside blowing raspberries, the masticated fruit collecting under the eaves, scarlet cobwebs crowding.
Retina displays awkward fears inverted, contorted; tears of moments on corners on shoulders, breath willowing down neck, hands clasp entwined now disjointed; fantasy as ecstasy as duplicity as treachery as the doh-ray-me crashes through the sound caves, wave on wave, stacking, hijacking reason, the nitrate of doubt, a weed now sown, growing blooming billowing flowering, its blooms whisper whispering, pierce skin, succour, incubus-lover, dew dropped drowsiness, drugged disintegration, drowning drowning drowning drowning drowning.
I have never felt as small as I do right now.
The Lent Project 