05-26-2013, 06:46 AM
Thanks for reading. I got drunk and read this and it sounded shitty don't be afraid to give me your real opinion lol... This is about auditory hallucinations that I had of a woman speaking to me.
Delusion of love:
I hear my dreams coming and I am falling into the whispers
A bed of empty signals
They are like shadows that dart the corner of one’s eyes
Musing on what these mysterious sounds could be; the mind can conceive of anything.
So as I begin to hallucinate;
I’ll start to hear a siren sing.
Sing to me, siren, and sing, until I crash against the jagged cliffs.
Sing in the sibilance of waves.
Lull me into dreams with your white noise rhythm,
Sing your myths to me.
I shall paw at the air and feel the ephemeral friction of the wind against my hand.
Your silhouette is in the distance siren.
And this vague form of a woman is enough for me to form my fantasies
Each note that I wish true tenders forgotten sundry dreams.
And now my blood is free from wounds crusted over.
Wet blood trickles forth from a dry scab.
The fresh blood is brighter than the maroon of its dried counterpart.
I am naively raw to the pain and joy that the scabs had previously sealed away.
A dam is broken and jubilant effusions flow forth
Tottering tears oscillating between joy and depression
The siren draws me to a cliff
And as I crash I am reminded of the unyielding nature of stone.
Flesh must now begin the process of mending itself
Toughening and deafening itself
There will be other sirens
singing songs to skin away the dried up blood and pick again this wound anew.
All sweet songs will soon sound as jagged cliffs.
And these words are just a text referring to some meaning for you.
These whispers are empty signifiers that are simply auditory data.
It’s another faculty that transforms sensory data into meaning.
Delusion of love:
I hear my dreams coming and I am falling into the whispers
A bed of empty signals
They are like shadows that dart the corner of one’s eyes
Musing on what these mysterious sounds could be; the mind can conceive of anything.
So as I begin to hallucinate;
I’ll start to hear a siren sing.
Sing to me, siren, and sing, until I crash against the jagged cliffs.
Sing in the sibilance of waves.
Lull me into dreams with your white noise rhythm,
Sing your myths to me.
I shall paw at the air and feel the ephemeral friction of the wind against my hand.
Your silhouette is in the distance siren.
And this vague form of a woman is enough for me to form my fantasies
Each note that I wish true tenders forgotten sundry dreams.
And now my blood is free from wounds crusted over.
Wet blood trickles forth from a dry scab.
The fresh blood is brighter than the maroon of its dried counterpart.
I am naively raw to the pain and joy that the scabs had previously sealed away.
A dam is broken and jubilant effusions flow forth
Tottering tears oscillating between joy and depression
The siren draws me to a cliff
And as I crash I am reminded of the unyielding nature of stone.
Flesh must now begin the process of mending itself
Toughening and deafening itself
There will be other sirens
singing songs to skin away the dried up blood and pick again this wound anew.
All sweet songs will soon sound as jagged cliffs.
And these words are just a text referring to some meaning for you.
These whispers are empty signifiers that are simply auditory data.
It’s another faculty that transforms sensory data into meaning.