Madness Conscripted

her voice empty cups. words sweating and evaporating. her skin swallowing her up. in growing folds. like quiet hurricanes.

tripping into the world one scar at a time. chewing on the stones.

chasing the horizon.

her thoughts volcanoes. her words ashes. it's gone. the future is over.

finger paints and scandals. elevators and friction. fading evidence of survival.

hungry ghosts feast on the wormhole. the distance raw like meat. compelling comsumption.

little shadows in their tall hours. stroke the moment. the ratio cold. the math betraying.

the machine gasps and moans. the bitter servitude of pistons and gasoline. coloring.

time has no such luxury of faces. only the tremor of bones as they struggle to shape us.