I've been chasing a storm ever since last night,but the wheels have turned and now I'm being chased by it,in my churning guts,in my sleepless hours,in my blank stare.
I feel as if I have swallowed the Moon:my eyes are gleaming from behind,my insides are waves no ocean could hold.
Touch me with a needle -I'll burst out weeping as if I were still a child.
I can't stand this too familiar road,this nauseating sensation,this sizzling train-this last week feels like a hellish year.
I'll never understand rude men,my need for colorful words and a constant propinquity for projecting the future in a doomed fashion.
The gates of Hell are open and its heat pours upon us-I can't find another rightful explanation.
I am so absolutely done with these vapid words,these silly social trials,this self-inflicted torture...yet I carry on.
Don't mention food,don't mention coffee-it's that bad.
My lungs cannot bear both the pressure of this insufferable heat and that of my own.
Prayers and trembling body.