I’m Genuinely fucked in the head,
The voice is loud
And I’m not so proud of what Bounces around in there.
Stuff that can’t be found
In a light and fluffy cloud
The hounds are galloping
Skimming the ground in my mind and the howls… are loud.
So Loud they echo and echo
I…am not to be found.
Not to be heard because isolation and foolishness is creeping round.
Fictitious projections bound like bolts of electricity across the frowns in my brow.
Am I here…Again??
I’m down on my knees and
I let out a sound that only Gaia knows how.
My Vibrations tremor deeply into the ground
And breath fills my lungs to Sweet capacity.
The hounds of hellfire are finally calm.
Their rickety legs are burning after chasing and chanting,
Slavering and panting around my crani-ommm…
Breathe, Honey Bee.
My veins are relaxing.
The oxygen blasting my every senses.
I’m letting go.