Surreal Self Portraits – Fire Head; www.whitezine.com
Whirling figure twisting into submission
Hidden wishes forgotten in transition
Splitting headache throbs senses sweeping
Unable to distinguish the remains in the ashes
The flames die down, it’s dying now
You’re dying, we’re all dying so we all fall down
Down into the abyss in the shadows of thought
Who am I to fucking judge your last moment with our insatiable gods?
Hats off to existence, lonely soldier flapping in the breeze.
To answer any of THE questions
To glance but lose focus in concentrating rather than
being inattentive of anything and understanding it all
We kill DIE kill DIE kill
Ourselves in the days and the nights when
no one seems to have any of our answers
No one knows anything
So, we continue to laugh at and distrust the other…
Fuck that, the saying’s not quite true, is it?
We all own a little bit of experience
Enough to engage in hive philosophy when
one thing or another brings us together
I may not be an intelligent human
I may not be a successful person
I may not be mentally stable in any form
But I am responsible as someone from 8-5,
although hard to recognize; hardly noticeable at all to you darlin’.
Too convenient, the time it takes to think about the
empty spaces floating ’round brain
Filling up the voids with abhorrence
Sentient in its desperation
Penetrating mind, body, and soul
Raping deepthroat of voicing HELP
What does HELP even fucking mean anymore?
I guess we do as we please as we believe in our own answers
againandagainandagainandagainagainagainagainagainagain
I beg you, ‘let’s run away from this war’
but if you choose to refuse then I’ll remain as well.
Don’t you dare…don’t you leave me out of the final battle
Through it all, I’ve never been just the spectator, the nurturer
As I fight my way through the shit and dirt that we call Home
For this is you and your calling waves of disassociation, fuck nature
And its ways of always coming full circle.
I am grateful for our connection ❤
