A Lanturne-

Thursday nights,
Poet’s fierce heart

Thursdays have always been cruel! This unholy and sick day brings decaying cursed memories back to life, week after week. Neither nostalgia nor experiences, only shitty stories of a wild past upon which my otherwise dead brain feeds like a nymphomaniac! Darn it!

People have a greater tendency to fuck your mind in the worst of your moments and times, and you (and I) sit frozen there, with legs open, wide. No, there’s no logic to it, it’s just that we’re innocent motherfuckers, a sheer waste of existence littered on the holy surface of Mother Earth! Emotional, vulnerable, (apparently) mannered. We reflect the hypocrisy of our society in a way so delicate that even our naive shadows refuse to dream. A burden on the planet, a burden on ourselves we are!

Revelations serve as a treat to the opportunists, to suck out your trust, beliefs, faith and what not. Even the innate temperament and dispositions get altered. Holy Lord! I refuse to yell out anger over issues of my own concern, I reject the best of opportunities to fly, I refuse to fall in love with the man whose name resonates within; I just fucking refuse and reject to fit in your “perceptions and POVs” like a stateless river, and two of you fight to devour life out of me. Fuck you, existence!

I am nowhere. I don’t exist in a world so sane. I refuse to share my insanity with you. You can’t see me. You will never devour me again. This is the only way I choose to escape. The only sane way to escape.

•• Aa’eedah

© Cereus Florus. 2018.


4 thoughts on “Dimmed

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