BlurredIts starting, I can feel it
Lying across the bed still, its pulling at me.
I am still as I slip
these four walls that bind me are changing,
the room is caught in a flux
The floor Slides up and down as the walls swell and contract.
the world is moving around me as it breathes.
Its all blurring together
I tripped down the stairs
the whole hall is laughing down at me
I'm in the forest surrounded by faces
no one listens as my words fall out
I'm sat in the field, the fair girl is so beautiful
I'm in bed with her, she cries as I fuck her
I'm on my bed with her ontop, her blonde hair halos her face
she bends down to kiss me and rests her head into my shoulder
I'm at the cafe, she cradles her rose with a beaming smile
She feels so warm and alive
I can no longer feel myself
a suspended essence limited to oberve
a bystander with no powers
an identity to elude a conscience
A voice calls out as the walls bend back into place
Lying across the bed still.
waiting to be dragged away again.
His Collectiona former shell of a halcyon self, aged and tattered.
sits there with all it has left.
no longer investing in people
these ananymous objects are what keeps him happy now
its a new sense of purpose
no longer to mean something to someone
but to own all of what he collects
the plastic in his wallet conforms him unto a world of numbers and boxes,
they don't add up, they won't.
a balence enquirey is lapping at his heels
Sitting in a room on his own he slowly feels its grip crush down on him.
needing to wait for the next payment in to convert to further items.
loosen the slipknot around his neck.
thursty for more; stricken with impatientance
he readjusts the tie to make it tighter.
He can not leave. He must stay and trap himself
caught in a trap which he squirms further into.
he must stay here, for it keeps him save.
it is so fragile. they cannot be damaged
if one where to be lost a life will be crushed.
but the weight already bound to him
will slowly kill him regardless.
it is set in motion,
a cynics stenchForgive me for I have fallen
From my grand throne to the abyss
This scar has drawn a cynic
Tracing the outlines of that nature
I become that which I dispise
I long lost my path to bliss
So I scrounge for left overs
Stealing the joy of others
To silence my insatiate appetite
A price to pay for such sins
Is to be tarnished by oneself
& those who was once innocent
Sat in a putrid ditch
drenched in an offensive odour
I soak it in as I try to wash it off
It's out of control
I have my eyes set on the next victim
I mean no harm
but I will destroy myself and transform you
can I love you?
sleepthe world is like a waking sleep
staring at the ceiling,
yawning, heavy eyed;
it is an obtuse pain.
apathetic, lethargic and lifeless,
This is a torture with no escape.
The dream begins anew
It's like a little holiday... from everything,
a few minutes that makes a few hours.
it's all so vivid until your eyes reopen,
washing it out like an overexposed photograph.
It's a paper world and stage props
an imperfect recall
It's doppelgangers, smoke and mirrors
a cast to play the farce
The mind flirts dangerously with ideas.
shedding the world to live within that sandbox, incessantly and shamelessly;
relishing in cheap false joys.
abandoning all companions for a lie that bring a smile;
an arrogence which shields a sorrow.
but perseverance shall never falter
so keep it close, aswell as the oxymoron you reside in
..... I can't sleep
The Castlethis building is desolate and bereft of all sense of maintainence, hope and caring
a husk to shadow a former importance
I walk these old humbled halls on my own now
with a walk and a talk most unfitting
its one of a jester
jokes, a grin and a dance which are forced into a shape of a veil
for it must be to pull each foot forwards that one more step
It used to be real
shared agmost many
I miss that jovial quality
the one which I wore long ago
it left in search of those which are lost
but does not want to be found
all will be absent long overdue the time of dependance
I lay in a shade cast by ruins
rubble decadent and forgotten from a war once fought
its when I remember that which was meant to be forgotten
a flash of a figure, a warmth from a touch
the weight of an embrace, the raw emotion in the moment
vivid and full as if experienced moments ago
then further more new feelings are felt
those I would have been bestowed
so deep and passionate
I want it
I need it
this place must be rebuilt