frosted glass

I crave clarity, I lust to wake up

On the floor of that bathroom, my mind shut off. I didn’t experience anything. I’ve been told tales of what I did, but I didn’t experience them, I wasn’t there.

Where my eyes are, glassy marbles now lie
My tongue a styrofoam wedge between gritted teeth
My lungs are honey combs, doused with concrete, concave sculptures now
I see through frosted glass, the world around me is not real, I can slow time, my mind grows sticky- won’t let me move, my mind freezes at speech
Call my name, no answer will be had- an automatic response, no one is there
Mind like intricate lenses, out of focus
I am an oracle of all things meant to be
One which is blind, numb to the world
Where my fingerprints lie, dust clogs up the etch of my existence
Writings melt into wax, a pool to restrain my thoughts
Restrained, like that night on the stained carpets
Dance in psychotic wisps, arms wedged, to the screams of drunk girls
Encased in frosted glass


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