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i woke up last night
with distant bells ringing deep within my head
the strange silhouettes swaying in the flimsy mist
above the unfamiliar terrain and the strong wind
blowing across from east did not help much
albeit tangible and strikingly familiar
like theosophical discussions

the deserted tube station
of my mind was still inhabited by
the stoic robust melancholia hanging in thick
like slow moving origami birds made up of metal
rusted, pre-world war but acting like dark matter
soaking the very last shards of light
choking my defense mechanisms
every last bit

each time i walked
to the washroom to take the next pill
pink purple round triangular upper inhibitor binder closure
my eyes squeaked twitching like stage 3 Linda Blair
little spurts of pain ejaculated in white balls
of nothingness

and i smiled
with my eyes shut thinking about
you half asleep on the couch oblivious
to the wars woes and wounds
elsewhere

i think
that got me thru
like always




Written by Whitewand6
Published
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