Flesh ripped away
Fibers torn, swift injections
Numb the pain- pulsing pulse
Fists tight - internal dissections
Blood racing; blurring all inhibitions
Muscles spasm, race; bitter beasts: scream
Within the confines of this throbbing mind
Tick, tick, tock - beating eyes; flashing truths
All micro-consciousness pleas with
Those false Gods above to elevate; to purge
This infernal damnation, leverage; shift-
Drive away, vroom vroom - all reality gone: disfigured
Still I recall those days of agony born
Purest in its moment stead, torn from its own actuality
And reformulated; remodulation: to fit this empty puzzle piece
Of existence and pain; memory - The great God's raven flies
Still as the throb robs me of my existence. Nevermore.
Simply beautiful, of course. I was critiqued for "leaving the adrenaline at 'rushing'" -- this is a perfect explanation of that "rushing" rushed, hectic feeling. Absolutely perfect.
ReplyDeleteI am pretty sure you read this already, though. :P!
What? xD
ReplyDeleteWhat, what? o.O...
ReplyDeleteYou were using my computer and the comment was open. Pretty sure you already read it. That's all.