'And How Does That Make You Feel?'

The pages meet my fingertips again Tenderly guiding the ink, as if it were rotten bile Channelling all away To minimal change of my world The illusory script does not function To the disappointment of myself and the happiness of others And again to my bewilderment. The room spins even though. A dumb look washes over my face or it must have Reality pixelates and I feel a weight at the side of my head Up and down it nods as if opening up the plates Ripping apart the fabrics with a sickening tear One that plays a sweet discordant melody, I grip the fruit infront of me It secretes black ink that stains all, Faux grass in between the toes, infront of a square sunset Smothered in a blue lens, Chunks of stuck food appear in the line of sight Punches and stabs and what feels like betrayal Too many words entered the ear Removing the eye of the hurricane I float in Drawing it back in where it does not exist Impossible but the best course of action anyway Deserved, echoing throughout Truth mixes with it, alkaline Yet still only serving to increase my pain. The swirling parts ever so slightly in my mind As the mantra repeats. Not more than they say, The glass ceiling never being broken. Be kinder. Be more assertive. Orders taken and meals thrown Up into the mind the storm halts. And the pen glides still, Soul, guts and heart, Empty and raw.