My brain is in a fortitudinal mode, with both sides fractured, both sides mutilated. And with each random firing, the cells begin to mutate: wiring this way and that, leaning in front of the pineal fireplace. There goes my everfalling sanity, it's driven by some power-wielding, hungry wolf. O silence hear my cry, beg me to wait for this infernal sleepwake cyclops. O music, lust after me, caress my very soul and make me whole. Forgetting the sentence i am doomed to live out, i suspect nothing and everything, whislt paranoia breaks my heart. You look for me underneath a firelit moon, and apocolypse pleases this erected night. June waits for us to part the seal from the chardonnay bottle and beckons the stars closer, above their continuing, restless spot dancing. I loll on top of grassy knolls in desparation, bite the bacon sandwiches your mother made, and whistle bits of crumbs. I wipe the ketchup from your chin, and cup to keep the juices in your mouth from dribbling out. Your halflips, a-symetrical, try to smile, but one side fails, you wonkily grin. Your scarred, burnt arms surround my waist and bring me closer to your face, your brighteyed lenses strike the moon, because nothing else is false. Your crooked teeth begin to show, you sign to me to signal "yes or no". I pretend to sigh and venture near... -a moment ensues- you break the silence with a wheezy laugh i turn to face you "are you real?" i wonder. such a tortured wonder, yet...yes, such a gleaming soul! hear my thoughts too, and agree: you're disfigured on the outside, but my inner core is a black pot.
Hmmm. A very beautifully written piece. It is intriguing and perplexing, yet never loses the readers attention.
