Under The Guise of Normalcy
Injustice Pointed by The Finger
Two people
With the same duality:
One is calm
Like gentle ripples on the quiescent water
Flowing flair for flaunting
To mask the musk of fear and anger
With wax lyrical words
Yet one stir
Can cause correction
To this state of supposed serenity
Twisting, turning, tweaking
Wryly wary wringing whim
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Devil and Angel
Black and White
Perilously melted with each other
However, when two personalities in one
Happen to meet the same kind on its way
This prophetic hurricane never stops
Until it's blown off
From volatile grounds
Into the instantly soaring uplands
Conceived from concealed
Clashes with obliterated history
*
To A. C.
*
10 June 2021
***
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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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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis5 days ago in Humans
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