Lodestone

I do not enjoy the way these actions and thoughts make me feel, yet I seem to be attracted to them like a paperclip on lodestone: a smooth piece of twisted metal stuck on an unrefined chunk of earth.

static transmission

Cortisol levels are rising and falling often and drastically.

*static*

My sebaceous glands have joined my one woman party of over-reactivity.

*static*

Severe changes in temperature are compromising homeostasis.

*static*

Mynd

The confines of one’s mind can be as comforting as a heroin addict’s womb sometimes…

Welcome to my malevolent mind; menacingly maniacal it can be.
Sometimes I feel as if it is apart from me, rather than a part of me.
Once again, rather still, I am plagued with uncertainty.

Some Sentences

And the darkness confounded with slate skies, seen through beguiled eyes, encapsulated the withering warmth of a morbid mother’s womb with impending inertial doom.

For so long as the rickety chair wavered on splintered boards, the ligneous echoes of life creaked weakening tunes with tiny skeletal sticks on an invisible tympanal membrane.

Anonymity claimed her frigid fingers as she scribbled in a foreign language the daunting memories of a sadistic stranger.

Elusive echoes of a dull drum filled her mental chamber like melancholy stew in a cast iron cauldron.

Escapade

I am in need of an escapade, as I fight transformation into a jade.
This metamorphosis I feel, will leave little time to heal.
But it will require an aching desire for much more rehabilitation.
Yes, I confess, I am in need of some stress alleviation.

In her Mind

She smiled a lonely sad smile as she sat staring vacantly at the sliver of streaming sun that was casting a warm welcoming glow through the dusty window onto the rickety wooden slats that comprised a poor excuse for a floor. Her vision blurred, painting a solar flared fading image in her mind. In her mind….

Twisting cavernous delusions pulsate to silent rhythms.

In her mind…

Beautiful scenery becomes globulous piles of muddied latex and acrylics.

In her mind…

She sees what cannot be seen.

In her mind…

Fantastic fractals distort into far-fetched wonders of chaotic circumstance.

In her mind…

Games game games and names name names.

In her mind…

She can see what a seeing eye dog sees.

In her mind…

Doubt turns to misery.

In her mind…

Phantasmagoria is a plaything.

In her mind…

Roaches metamorphosize into butterflies with burnt button eyes.

In her mind…

A hollow echo haunts a carditic chamber.

In her mind…

Wonders never cease in the wanders through each crease.

In her mind…

Nothing is (n)ever meant to be.

In her mind…

Thoughts are contained in parentheses.

In her mind…

Spirals decompose to recompose.

In her mind…

Only she knows what she knows.

In a blinking instant her vision returned from the blur. A grey cloud had settled over the setting sun. The slate slats creaked beneath her feet as she slowly rose from her dusty seat. To the window she walked ever so deliberately to gaze out at the oaken wilderness that once did exist… in her mind.

Pothole

A new pothole has decided to surface on my already bumpy road. The thing about potholes is that they can be avoided, but the longer one continues to swerve away from them the longer they are allowed to expand, slowly eroading*. Fortunately, unnecessary wear and reckless driving can be avoided by simply filling in the pothole and driving over it. Sure, one may experience a slight bump, but the more it is driven over the less noticeable it becomes until eventually it all but fades into just another part of the road leaving nothing more but a slight discoloration.


*eroading: causing erosion to a road

Broken Pawn

Cracked beneath his feet
a broken pawn knows not defeat;
Synonymous with the fool,
she will always be his tool.