Imply you might find your way
If you travel the same route and not
Divert from your destination?
What I experience is cuts
Between my brain, mouth and fingers.
A severe profound loss
Of former existing connections.
It's hard to not feel it as a lack
When your tongue feels broken
And your brain reflects
Scattered ash and burial sites.
Every thought is emptying
Inside me and lost forever.
A thousand little deaths sending
Me the message I don't exist.
That is a feeling like hell.
It's a constant loss of control.
A complete inability to be yourself.
Fog clears sometimes.
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten