void nothing

poems about stories, dwindling and swinging, lost but free.

 

poem 1       listen to a song 

 

A drain, adrenaline time spent, forces itself into the sand.


Spellbinding, after many years, this rain washes down me from above,


Breaking me down, and I assemble and disassemble, scrutinizing every piece


Before I make myself again.


a toy dispenser, breaking free from the manufacturing chain,
Pieces of camouflage to be sold.


The monotony breaks harmony, and misery loves company.


As a stable molecular equilibrium results, I do anything to stay away from the void.


And I know the first time will be the sweetest,


so after that, I will know how the chord structure feels,


And the sounds will not be unfamiliar anymore. I swim alone, in the instinct of it all,


Knowing things for the first time. Not waiting for later, I go in,

Thundering, crashing into the crowd, smelling salt all over myself,


The vibratory sequences which follow later are set to gyroscopic thrusts,


Ancient, planetary G forces. Getting the vibe? The odor is of a melodramatic evening.


I finish swimming before the song ends, when I go back in, the water will be sullen, dry.


And it will not be fun anymore.

The End

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