mentia

and i went to bed this early
that i nearly dreamt a lot
for i woke up very lately
and found that i have not

mottled sight of auric velvet
of the night's stillness in black vibrancy
dazed in fear of criscrossed voices
mantling the heart with piteous anxiety
opened and closed simultaneously--
those circles that betroth its own kind
the startling incident that pulled my soul
into a crevice i can never escape
falling and falling and falling and falling
and never ending
and never ending
and never ending

it haunts me forever in creeping trials
that are yet to be finished but will never be
and i feel the breeze tickling my muzzle-tip
as i realize the insanity and the normality
and the intensity of the living addiction:
the best they'll ever be

and i wake up into reality
and i sense some conformity
with what i felt and saw and heard
and i jumped into conclusion
that i'll liven my delight into sensitivity