and with desperate attempt
i got away, but was it truly an escape?
these mystic landscapes that welcomed me
bright snow, with a diffuse light
i couldn't tell where it was coming from
like a vision, i wandered
on a path i had never walked before
glittering veins around me
in me
crystallizing blood
and the birds
welcomed me
so i would become one of them
with shimmering feather
and everlasting beauty
glass came tumbling down in masses,
a crush of turquoise splinters.
and from me a red ocean flowed,
while i blinked at the glittering and vast Atlantic.
it is an unnatural wasteland,
unbearable.
the wide land i was always craving,
this is not her.
and with a heart full of melancholy,
i find myself longing for the storm.
fitful sleep.
a dream, translucent,
barely covering me and my restless spirit.
i'm at the border:
just a single noise
and my eyes are open
while my mind remains dazed
frightened
loud, it's loud
bombs are raining down on me
(a passing train, nothing more)
there’s something that has taken root in my body, a pressure, that makes it hard to breathe. petals are raining from my mouth, pink blushed with speckles of red.
my organs have fed them well, nourishment for a full bloom.
the oppressive summer heat has finally made room for a cool breeze, pushing through the window, caressing my body, while cicadas make my head ring with their concert.
it's late
and
it is the brief moment of decision, the choice to make myself vulnerable to restless thoughts, before the grasps of sleep finally pull me into their quiet embrace, or to succumb to the urge of keeping myself mindlessly entertained, eyes burning.
anxiety claws through my body and my stomachs acid burns in the wounds
the feeling of proudness has long vanished - now thorny embarrassment grows there instead, thriving on the sourness of my body
a dream of becoming something, squashed by the terrors of being perceived