my minds eye is a crusted cataract
 distorted and removed
peering ever inward
distracted by the sound of wind

a wiff of her sends me through

discordia

seek the solution, the key to make it right
she is the bottom of a large hollow bowl
the sides are slick and always drag me back
it is dark and dreadful at the bottom

I see nothing and feel nothing of my own
the pleasure of humiliation
the broken dream disjointed
fractals that I can dive ever deeper into
always reveal more to reveal

in the end, there is nothing tangible
nothing to rip but madness
Everytime I reach the edge, when
the darkness of her seems to have
loosened its grip, I hear her laugh
as if through a darkened hallway

then the curl of these thoughts
grips my mind and drags
me mercilessly down into it again
to grovel and mewl

06/21/2007

Posted on 06/21/2007
Copyright © 2026 Travis G Finborg