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Losing Reality
I know what's real, I think rationally and have never felt the need to question my sanity. I know what's real yet I've become obsessed by the visions of a delusional state, seen but not seen eyes of all shape and size peer out at me from walls and corners. They never blink so neither do I, their irises are violet and shimmer as if in flame and I feel my eyes burn when I stare at them... But I don't stare in reality I only see them in my mind YET I FEEL the burning through closed lids in blackened rooms...
I know what's real and yet I've listened to the screams coming from the eyes, originating in the pupil as the beauty around it burns me I HEAR the screams of agony, agony and something more... I've tried to drown them out, tried to ignore the truth of them, but they're not heard in reality THEY'RE ONLY HEARD in my mind. These screams don't drown out sounds yet it's impossible not to hear them, The carrying factor is suffering but clinging to the underbelly is lust and pleasure and Rage! The screams I hear come from my own mind and they never end They never END and they NEVER END and THEY NEVER END until their echos cross over and over again and I find myself, staring into the eye on my wall while the flaming violet shimmers around a pupil that is deeper than any abyss and darker than any shade I can name...
I know what's real, and this is it. The eyes are as true as any physical object, the screams are as real as any sound, so why do I question my sanity? I tell myself that as long as I keep from being absorbed by the pupil whose scream is the voice of me I can hold on to this reality, but how do I know it hasn't already happened?
I know what's real and yet I've listened to the screams coming from the eyes, originating in the pupil as the beauty around it burns me I HEAR the screams of agony, agony and something more... I've tried to drown them out, tried to ignore the truth of them, but they're not heard in reality THEY'RE ONLY HEARD in my mind. These screams don't drown out sounds yet it's impossible not to hear them, The carrying factor is suffering but clinging to the underbelly is lust and pleasure and Rage! The screams I hear come from my own mind and they never end They never END and they NEVER END and THEY NEVER END until their echos cross over and over again and I find myself, staring into the eye on my wall while the flaming violet shimmers around a pupil that is deeper than any abyss and darker than any shade I can name...
I know what's real, and this is it. The eyes are as true as any physical object, the screams are as real as any sound, so why do I question my sanity? I tell myself that as long as I keep from being absorbed by the pupil whose scream is the voice of me I can hold on to this reality, but how do I know it hasn't already happened?
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