teichopsia (pretty and painful are my picasso dreams)

whirl a world of mania
in my wild eyed
ablepsia
i cannot find the way
out of the looking glass;
cannot delve
beneath the water of your ways
(you come and go, and so; and so?)
can't flow away from my attraction
to your tactile fraction
of what i want to be
or perhaps was
once

wrap myself
around me
my unreality of different sanity
i cannot quite grasp what i want to-
what of mythology when love is
written on a condom
and tacked to a wall

so strange
and yet
i know it so well
it's swell
and swollen
in my skull
maybe it asked to be let in
or maybe it used the side door

i reel

i
reel

surreal

and yet it's
all so clear when i see i am the seer
i am prophetic
or pathetic
to be holding onto the thing that burns

maybe
i yearn to be torn
torn like my jeans i used to wear
when i was cool and careless
and believed in nothing more than
the nothing
in my panophobia

my ripped panties
remind me
of something else

pansexuality

i don't know why i never say no
but i always know to use my safeword
even unheard

i
tremble
to think
what will become of me

can't seem to stop him til he's cumming
it's over when he's
over
the i
that hides
in us
and the us
that hides
in his eyes

i have the apple in my hand
so you can blame me i guess; just
tell me
explain

am i the eve of the fall
or the fall of the eve before the dream
the one that lay upon me as i slumbered
heavy and yet as casual as yesterday?

yesterday
i wore jeans
i was torn
is this deja ju
danger hues
coloring my blank slate
has all this been said before

i thought i
was starting
over
....

overwhelmed

macromania
am i sane beyond the fullness
of a moon not yet resting?

everything
seems to be all it is
but more so

and every mirror
reflects only
mirrors
i reflect
|| reflect ||
||| reflect |||

and am lost in the maze

amazed

all this is
is all i know

i begin to follow the dance

swirl
unfurl

the world whirls on with my bones on the breeze
beyond the sea
beyond the trees
it grows
teeny
tiny

and
...

is
..

> gone