I’m talking to the world
no answer, everyone
left the premises
it’s only me here, drowning
in my own take on things
no one knows what it’s all about
we are all blind, stupefied
even if I put it on the line
there will be no one to pick it up
this charade of strange stuff
that’s why I tend to speak in riddles
like the mythical Sphinx, I can’t help it
my words crush under the instability
floating in the air, intricate threads
and only snakes could follow them
when I think about it, it’s all blurry
taken from a drunken dream with one difference
that not following the hangover scene
*
January – February 2023
***
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About the Creator
Mescaline Brisset
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
so you want to be a writer? – Charles Bukowski
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