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Old 08-18-2013, 06:57 PM   #1
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A Slow Float

The death of a self-dimension
a reality losing the ground on which it was built
breath-takingly impaled by barbs of truth
barbs I have fused with and now find comfort upon
constant disintegration of my current self
prolapsed mind emerging from cancerous encasements
shearing forces perforating membranes, mysting mental moisture
fumigating brain-space; diffusing toxic thoughts
slithering from sloppy sensory filters
a conscious restructuring, existential architecture
sanding off my societal topcoat, finding substance beneath
pure alchemical phenomena
A will of stone possessed by a Philosopher
revealing the gold beneath my leadened shield.
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