crackling skin skingling in mingling djinns,
I’m walking through spiked glass, stunned and numbly bleeding,
nameless, painless, shameless shade of grey seething
contempt as he prepares to wrestle with me every day,
testing strength and resolving might with an array of stray plays.
He makes me pay, he gives me faith and yet He takes it away,
riling me in every conceivable way,
I can’t understand why He puts me through this pain
inflicting worldly conscience turning my diamonds to rain

he rests his head on my already broken shoulder blades
when I can barely even breathe his pressure and strain

when I can barely bear the reality inside my too cuckoo brain.
Multiplied exponentially by a million mulled thoughts again and again

And I set off to wondering which game to play, who shall I be today?
I am in plain sight for the sane but absent from the same,

I see me, a puppet in his lame game, but does he see me?
Where is my lost part, the second half of my phoenix heart,

placed in this universe somewhere far, fading from my destiny, lost at the start,
Lost on a pathway to neverending peace, I stand beneath a planted tree,
I wander this earth continuing to belong to an unspecific nobody.

I wade through shaded shadows, engaged, enraged, caged
to a spirit who leaves me at the first sate of daybreak,
he promises me love but he’s a calamity on a page
wishing whispered nothings to something about delay

and my dreams sycamore falling like snowflakes

until the dust devours my skin,

belonging to nowhere,

to no body,


ink is free, so...

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