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Description
I sit inside myself, quietly on nothing as the emptiness around me explodes with light and color and lightning caresses my thoughts and buffets me about the strangeness of my self while I'm pushed, unfeeling, through clouds of thoughts and dreams and headrushes from psychic stress are my fuel, limitless, powerful, tempering my spirit, encouraging my temper, teaching me temperance thru the violence that surrounds the inner depths of myself; I'm lost as usual, with no direction, no limits, no spirits, no assembly of primal judgmental gods appearing and alluring me away from my true inner focus; I'm a butterfly of pure white anger caught in a maelstrom of compulsion and disillusion that constantly surrounds me and attempts to break me down and it makes no real difference to me whatsoever because I'm used to it, I've been used by it, abused by it, knocked down, spit upon, mistrusted, & shit on, but I come back for seconds & dessert because even as it feeds on me, I feed on what it feeds me eagerly; this dark, violet, violent spiral & I are old friends & rivals at the same time I realize time together for its importance; Heaven & Hell & the center of all things standing on the porch & at my feet & at my side, knocking on the door & wanting to be let in so the dreams can begin anew, fresh & clean as if just out of the shower, whereupon after just having sex with fear, I will never see fear again regardless of how many messages I get lonesome inside sometimes on long nights there's just too much room up there & I don't get much company since the voices left I realized with no real surprise how often they were right & I should have listened more carefully, but maybe it's silly of me to depend upon people I can't see anyway you want it, anywhere you need it, anything you need, can be found on SATURDAY AT 4AM …