on disappearing

i enjoy disappearing

shutting off my phone

hiding my letters

locking my doors

turning off my eyes

i build labyrinthine worlds

and trace the depths of my mind

just deep enough so that i don't fall in

i dance with phantoms

to the drumbeat of my heart

occasionally interrupted

by the doorbell's call

if the ringing doesn't stop

i kiss the ghosts goodbye

and climb back out

into the void.

synapses

i couldn't tell you what i think

even if i wanted to

for there are three moons and countless stars

(though i spend all my time counting)

maybe Galileo sat at his desk with parch/ment/lips

and tried to find the cure

his method disguised as his pretence

but nonetheless pure

unwinning led to here

we stand in time & space

we here

not you and i

or you and me

but minds are transcendent

they are the key

though we know not

where to find the lock.

in difference

where to?

pressure enveloping my bones

[your collar matches your hands]

caught and released

straying from your gaze

or

stray [you] from mine

anywhere is free

but

here isn't anywhere

now.

torrential triteness

absorbed into the atmosphere

i only appear moved to avoid the quagmires.

returns

a collection of perceptions

convoluted

to the point of becoming

mere fragments,

disjointed like static

and just as loud.

what is real?

time/form/feeling

flowing and meeting

fleeting glimpses

universes conversing

without knowing

holding our ears and

staring up

with clenched eyes

pray that focus

will become of us

while fearing the masterpiece.

tribulations

it is pressing

down

it's all i can do to stop myself from being crushed

air is esc ap i n g

my lungs are burning

i inhale aliens

coughing i try to find

what i am looking for

to bring me back to what i knew

but i know not what that was

i know what i want

ed

not

this

where can it be

why must it be

so

the weight is the world

insomnia

self-inflicted insomnia

is what i suffer from

in bed

with the lights on

at two in the morning

heavy eyelids

and a screaming head

for the pillow

but i can't

i lie awake listening to the nothings

or live vicariously through worn out pages

and broken spines

i spent last night with dragons,

but tonight i'm seeing the stars

disillusionment

every day is the same

but also it is different

i try to concentrate but something always catches my eye

i pick pick pick at everything and nothing at the same time

i run through hallways 

and can't remember if i'm chased or chasing