dancing shadows

shock therapy, brandished
like an angry blade
over love
the blinding shine of sharp edges
caught in the burn of the sun.
there are strangers, dancing on glass
before me,
every step closer shatters beneath their feet
in a disarray of  forbidden colours
for my timely visual feast.

i see it all when i step back
for a clearer view; my schizophrenic
conversations play back like old films,
my inability to breathe when the tides of hostility
rises over the shore of my calm.

these visions, they leave me stranded on
the barren plains of my mindscape,
with feral desires, primal instincts that
teach to inflict or retreat as i encounter
the darkest of memory matter.
these visions show me the art
of raw survival.

we are the pioneers of our own demise
our own eternal bliss/ the words
get stuck between these organic cogs
placing pressure on unwanted silence
that dry up our lips, until one day
something breaks in the quiet
sending unwanted sentences hurtling through
the parallels of our sane perception of reality -

here is where we unravel
becoming wholly stretched out
and centered.

hidden in the folds of time
are intangible pockets of unforgettable consequences
those that are too big to fit in tiny pockets
drop down like bombs
leaving you scattered and scraping for the most basic level
of life on its hinges, covered in the ashes of
broken truths and long-term denial.

these eyes, they watch me from afar
as i ferociously dance on glass ceilings
for all the weight of my being
remembering this time
to never ever look down again.

my eyes burn as i stare into the distant
dark of the night
willing all their surging energies of fear and helplessness
to take their exit before i blink.

the strangers steps out of the haze
familiar figures i have known through many universes.

they show me to forget this heightened vertigo
to never stumble on frail glass by looking beneath
the transparency
because all the underlying unknown matter
we can't reach alive or have to die for
does not deserve the fall of our rhythm.