I can feel my soul unraveling
Stitch by stitch,
left for dead beside my body,
a mound of tangled black thread.
Contorting itself into an everlasting cloud,
it opens its mouth wide to suck the stars,
and consequently drools upon my pillow: blood.
My mind is drenched.
I eat flowers to try
My mouth hole is open but no one can see inside.
It is not me.
Carrying the weight of forests and ecstasty,
I want nothing more than to be no more.
Existence itself oozes from my eyes like an infection,
while I dream of the heaviest knife that never existed
meeting my glowing heart.