you ask "how did it feel?"
unexpected impressions blow holes in grey matter
and dig out the past
hands remember
how to wipe tears
before they freeze in their motion
lips start to speak there's no sound
just an echo of pain
in my frontal lobe
the silent sledge-hammer is working again
fragile connections are lost in a vortex
the mixing machine prepares the concrete
and quickly
the cortex seals
"what do you feel?"
was anything real?
construction just the faintest vibration in my frontal lobe indicates the sledge-hammer again is at work. but the noise reaches neither my ears nor my mouth, nor is there pain, cause the brain is a marvel containing itself. the hammer crushes something to pieces anew, they´re planning more skyskrapers blocking the view. heaven´s anyway gray, like over pompeji, clouds of ashes and dust and a thick neural crust over brittle affections, illegal connections. like cold lava creeping the concrete obstructs all the secret game trails and dusty tear ducts.
title still in construction (edit thanks to mercedes, cat, mirovia)
just the faintest vibration in my frontal lobe indicates the sledge-hammer is working again. But not a sound reaches my ears, not a thought would translate into words, nor is there pain. the brain is a marvel containing itself.
the hammer is doing a thorough job illegal huts crushed to pieces again. there are plans for more skyskrapers
blocking the view. heaven is gray anyway, clouds of ashes and dust sediment to a fine neural crust.
the dust is remixed, I am confused in this dizzying vortex. wait a short while to see concrete thoughts as they flatten the cortex. this cold magma always fills every small space, obstructs fragile connections. here I stand, still as I try to remember buried foot paths and ancient ducts.
(title still in construction) 3nd edit
you ask "how did it feel?"
unexpected impressions blow holes in grey matter
and dig out the past.
hands remember
how to wipe tears
before they freeze in their motion.
lips start to speak, there's no sound,
just an echo
and pain building up
in my frontal lobe.
but the silent sledge-hammer is working again.
fragile connections are lost in the vortex
of a concrete mixing machine
and my cortex
seals fast.
"what do you feel?" is anything real?
I hope for any type of comment, but especially how this is interpreted. maybe someone knows a better title for this
