All Knowledge is vain. Except when there is work

The soul is a landscape
Infinite and entirely
It is two birds and one stone
Wired, we are, to see
Ourselves superimposed
As both everything and nothing
Everyone and nobody
Existing only right now

He traced my rib cage. “There.” He points to the space in between. “This is where the tube is placed to draw the fluid from the lungs.” This man: I contemplated him. His blackened chest. His cold weather features. Gifts me a gas mask. It is my birthday.

“What did you see?” I asked. He closed his eyes before looking at the ceiling.

“Small and perfect. Gentle and kind. The watcher had… Placed herself in the cross hairs.”

She lay down on a bed of crimson moss. Transcending into the soft sensation of the mind collapsing upon itself.

He shook her.

“Gunner!” He shouted.

But she had descended into her own madness.

I’m going to pretend to be in love

My half reaction

Played out with a shrug

Dreaming about

Different rooms

Different beds

All the places

I have come to lay my head

I’ve never been

I’ve never been

To the place that you are from..

Before I die

I want to see the sky

Burning from above

I want to be in love