A dark place
Teeming with shadows, welcoming yet suffocating
A familiar place to be, as black as it is
Seeping into every aspect, every moment
Infecting the dreams and drowning the inspirations
The drive of humans, dulled down to a black mass of nothingness
A mass of decay and silence, of the end and the beginning.
To begin with the quiet yelling, begging for the end
The yelling dulls to a whisper, sometimes
The black mass becomes lighter, in weight and color.
You can breathe, you can dream
Inspiration flows and existence is colorful.
The mass rises, blackening the sky of yours
Pulling you back to this familiar place
This dark place.
Disheveled existence
Scratching every corner of your brain
Begging to be fixed, to be corrected
But it never will be, your vision slants it
Lined up, cleaned, sized and colorized.
But never quite clean enough, never quite sized enough
The itching, scratching never stops
Pulling each individual wrinkle in your brain, teasing each moment
Forcing you to take notice, to stop and correct its existence.
It crawled into you, and it will never leave
Nothing you see through its vision will ever be fixed
Everything that exists is slanted.
The inability of everything
Vibrations joined with an ugly warmth,
A warmth causing pain, panic, distress,
The vibrations preventing connections to the world
To others, to objects, to a simple keyboard stroke or ringing communication,
A distress easily understood and impossible to escape.
Known to be irrational, to avoid the logic of the situations
Yet it persists, gripping onto your heart and causing illogical beating
A sinking cool, an ugly warmth, a lack of control, and a sickness stuck in the chest
Changing between temperatures, distracting from the task,
The task is distracting from existing
The heart vibrates from the sickness.