I battle with my mind in the Agonia at Agon in pure agony as I slip into unconsciousness.
The tears of pain aspirate my pores and sting my cheeks.
Falling downward, no, perhaps upward into clouds of toxins laced with dreams of fright and incredulity.
A cognitive despair floods a flicker of light amongst the flames of whirling wisdom.
I sit up only to find myself laying down and I glance the mirror whose face shows not a smile in this reality but a frown.
A radiant wake of light storms through me from the stars
The wake does not stop to ask why.
Leaving a wake of unspeakable truths. A wake that’s awake and aware before I am able to convey such thoughts. My mind beats me to my tongue so it bites down suppressing the conception of an emotion that is to be raw as fresh flesh.
The wake saw me draw blood before I felt it in my mouth and still doesn’t ask why.
It circles my heart in my chest cavity as it beats and thumps against my ribs pushing blood outward begging to be freed filling my ears and head with a lucid inception of self. A dynamically stagnant dichotomy.
The wake sees the pain within and still doesn’t ask why.
I try and grasp this wake with all my might, all my mind, all my insight but the wake only throws me down, unaware of the damage left beneath it.
Emotions strewn about like limbs post war on a battlefield.
Proclivities pierced by words not said, not thought, not felt like a cannibalistic porky Pine.
The wake has transmuted into a tidal wave and does not allow me to ask why.
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