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literature
Distortion of Self
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Literature Text
Falling from the edge of all reason
As they come to my head
And the walls start to crumble now
Fields surround my bead
Twisted strings, fleshy puppets
Act the scenes that make up my dreams
Scary faces, happy places,
Is this all really what it seems?
The tablets are all gone now, my dear
Overdosed and under loved
Pictures forming, the past is dawning
It fits me just like a glove
Glass melts into a crimson oak tree
The sky a liquid black silk
A beach of bones, lidless eyes of stone
Suckle the weeping lambs milk
I can't breath through the hair in my throat
Nor hear through the colour of skin
A wordless tome lay on the ocean throne
Yet the crosswords are filled in
The butterflies cannot help me right now
Nor does the phone work in the lobby
But I know that inside the magic man's sack
Is my carved and dismembered body!
I've fallen from the edge into insanity
The Illusions are real
I am calling to you but can you not hear me?
You all know what I feel!
Liars, thieves and angels
Trapped within life's savage maw
I'm tired, I'm broken
Won't someone open this door?
As they come to my head
And the walls start to crumble now
Fields surround my bead
Twisted strings, fleshy puppets
Act the scenes that make up my dreams
Scary faces, happy places,
Is this all really what it seems?
The tablets are all gone now, my dear
Overdosed and under loved
Pictures forming, the past is dawning
It fits me just like a glove
Glass melts into a crimson oak tree
The sky a liquid black silk
A beach of bones, lidless eyes of stone
Suckle the weeping lambs milk
I can't breath through the hair in my throat
Nor hear through the colour of skin
A wordless tome lay on the ocean throne
Yet the crosswords are filled in
The butterflies cannot help me right now
Nor does the phone work in the lobby
But I know that inside the magic man's sack
Is my carved and dismembered body!
I've fallen from the edge into insanity
The Illusions are real
I am calling to you but can you not hear me?
You all know what I feel!
Liars, thieves and angels
Trapped within life's savage maw
I'm tired, I'm broken
Won't someone open this door?
Created as my submission to the heart-of-poetry ' Illusions ' Weekly Prompt. I had written a comedy piece about perpendicular spiders and ' a cute, acute and astute passion fruit by the name of Bernadette'. However, I thought my usual style of self loathing and macabre, as written by a mentally deficient otter recovering from head trauma, may be more fitting. I will let you all be the judge of that. It's fun to judge people. Anyway, Enjoy if you can.
© 2014 - 2024 KgvMasters
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