Number 273

#273 Drugs don’t make me feel Just feel differently Equivocally beauty lies in mine eyes That I voiced you were beautiful was deceit and a lie My vision inoculated. the edges of reality serrated This poignant version sawed and mutilated What I originally saw That in inhaling that scent I felt instead amnesia Was I sent to forget all others I’ve met And dull all other senses by this aromatic anesthesia Suddenly sneezing, in that moment freezing that second’s regret That I loved you Wounds don’t make me bleed Just drain visibly Lightens my head for better mobility Reddens my clothes to enrage the nobility Scarification for sake of creation Balance destruction and birth in recreation This pain, it has been self sustaining Do you not notice this disgusting rage? That which has ravaged this superficial cage? Yet left my soul, in control remaining? Not masochism but imperialism Never to cope Could never have scoped The extent of my nervous sovereignty Which allows me to choose Meaning selectively, to redefine the term self abuse And in my unquestioned authority Fuck myself further Sleep can’t help me rest Just postpone tranquility Shut down the stimulation, fry nerves with subtle agility Microwave the neurons to induce a daily coma Or else face incarceration and serve occult insanity Masked reminders within synestheatic aroma Until my eyelids decompose And my mind cannot compose a more precise analogy Death yields freedom as love guarantees slavery I can find no repose for my wretched mind So fuck sleep proclaims the insomniac Not exactly what he’s been looking for Looking to unwind his twisted key Blindly tick tock creatively This season is not repeated in an almanac This weather pattern is unique To awaken is what I truly seek Reality check mate