blindness


	blindness
Joana.	Like a blind man I have memorised the places I move in Feeling the walls closing in around me I cannot fear their familiarity I turn my head to see what I cannot see Like a blind man The noise inside me is thickening Deafening whispers The buzz of fluctuating wasps Sadist and sinister creatures That drown deeper The blindness into its abyss The gelid darkness The living non-existing A continuous cycle The no beginning The permanently present closure Like a blind man I move now sluggishly I do not need to know where I am Who I am Where I am I am here Like everything else that I feel The concrete, touchable proof Of what is and what is not The still mood of the highest airs The electric wires suspending me I stretch my arms and I am not afraid I let the feverish cold inebriate me I feel the atoms boiling inside me Bursting through the tip of my fingers Like a blind man I am trapped in a world that only I can see Pushing my eyes further inside So I can see the fading light created Holding on to the few drops of reality The remains of sustained happiness That were left underneath the hives Like a blind man I wait here with no possible evasion Sitting silently at the corner Guarded by the nocturne wind Expecting the sign...	000818
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re_alisma	You were blind, and I seem to enjoy pretending that I am. It might be an old habit that's dying hard. Or it might be they have me all booked up and sentenced for doing-it-all-wrong, and so, yeah, definitely, satan satan satan. (Or not.)	111004

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