Por un tiempo desaparecer dejar de sentirme desvanecer descansar de mi pseudoexistencia. Es mi deseo, justa y exactamente lo que no puede ser.
In the space between measures ||| Filling the chasm [ ] In between thin dashed lines – – – Tracing the gap – – In between hyper and ventilation /] A void not yet emptied /-|]*
*/Cold inertia spilling out of me over everything ’cause I am here not yet there like a stain of dark ink my tainted blood paints it all I am done not yet begun like this storm I insisted to hold still but somehow just started paralyzing me ’cause maybe it can’t be any other way. Not just yet.]
In pure fear and pain I awaken, not having a clue why? Likely another undoable quest I failed in an unremembered nightmare. Again
in forced indifference the tears flow until I find reasons to make them my own. Then I cry more, in different tone. Again
sorting thru, discard, keep or use these cluttered things in my head.
sorting thru, discard, keep or use these tangled images and words
Again. My indifference frozen with my reflection. Then I take it, in different tone – a waterproofed catalyst to start anew once more
And I can’t breathe… been this way for hours my chest caving into my hollow as I gasp for air. Lacking reasons except for this surprise reappearance of my attacking anxiety daring my composure.
And You don’t let go… we’re both far gone into this rabbit hole but unlike before you have no hold of my mind. I’m pleased and You’re pissed my dear Anxiety Domme.
Victory is mine, roles reversed… so you have no choice but to let me breathe again.
All & NothinG, End & BeginninG, NoN+UltrA: Ad infinitum.
Shifts I cannot stop, a subtle buzz I cannot mute: My parts rearranging in a time-space vaccuum
Alfa-Omega decentered, No-Thing is All- Things: I fall off the scaffolds of this hollow shelter
Frigid absence to the bones and Im starved, disowned of affections I am torn apart: rebuilding what is left.
Black indifference burning acid to my soul, unfair dealings I am up for auction: OOAK yet another one
Instead of birth-giver can I trade for death-bringer? Pseudo Genesis in Apocalypse: fed up of this unrest.
how Unbearable… insanely paradoxical
to find myself numb, scattered and crushed
under the growing weight of my own Existence
how Absurd… logically detached
to shut oneself down
to unexpress in disguise
under the thickening veil of one’s own seething Shame
both false and real
against the expanding mass of this…
the pervasive echo of
my own disdained Resistance