Old, new me is poking my finger in your chest, pushing you, licking your brain from the inside, asking what’s going on…but I take it in stride.
Fortunately, unfortunately the god of consciousness previously had me at 90⁰…the torture of no comprehension has made me grow, pains and pleasures in sums I’d never thought before possible.
Now I’ll just carry you around until it swallows me, in one gulp, jaws opened wide…I’m coming inside to hide among the blood and the waters. I still weep deep down sometimes, now capable with some “pride” lost.
Leaping, coming for you the waves of time, one flex would bring no regrets to be found. The next tie, Palomar styled, with the full moon so bright, is there a perfect night in your sights? I’ve been spelled to show you the way home…