I'm half-awake in a rock-candy land of razor-blade dreams. I toss and turn, my mind churned to ribbons. Snagged on the edge of realities. I have no lucidity, here.
I imagine my muse in a grotesque display. I see her face frozen in rictus. I read obligation and what-they-want in the curl of her lips. A distended chasm yawns across blue plastic. I cringe when I realize she's missing an arm at the shoulder.
Given away to whom? I did not take it.
I awake with a bloody nose and caffeine headache. I dread my delusion was a vision of as-it-were, rather than illness in the ranks.
8:35 p.m. - 2015-02-19
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
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