Fading out of a mind,
lost in a fog,
white and grey
What I’m saying isn’t me.
Is this who I am?
I still don’t see outside.
Will it come
when I’m all gone?
I’ve been in limbo
my whole life.
“You’re mind is working at its best when you’re being paranoid.
You explore every avenue and possibility of your situation
at high speed with total clarity.”
― Banksy, Banging Your Head Against a Brick Wall
is clogged but the droplets don’t
lead to anywhere
when it is and when it’s not.
What does that mean?
Meltdown of my mind
Into a puddle on the floor.
There it grows into a statue,
Something I’ve never seen before.
I feel freedom, and the cycle continues.
The sensations in my eyes are like of liquid metal.
I’m not sure of the colour, but it’s somewhere
Between a bronze and a silver. There are shivers and a glaze.
“It is a narrow mind which cannot look at a subject from various points of view.”
― George Eliot, Middlemarch
How I would savour my aliveness
One last time,
Never to be endured again.
Sweet relief is in the oceans of mind.
I fall to them,
The dread is in pretending.
She’s been here before, in this chamber of possibility, forever passing the signs of freedom. What seems like it should be allowed is suppressed in caverns of mind.