Wild With Mushrooms

spiders slick so slippery master the sorts of sane. me; this tree draped over me, i can taste vulgarity like dust cracking the air. move back, away, all touch is a tickle- i can't manifest what could happen during this test. poetry is under construction, slandered by mathematics, nails skating down chalkboard. eyeballs proceed the expression; daylight comes accidently fervently molesting minds pushing words like time into corners. degraded children come forth like breaths from a neck wrung taut- is it wrong for me, the end i can see, the colors have malfunctioned entirely, red red red my laughter is your suffering, all fed, everyone's dead. why cry when we can just continue abbreviating instants with inconsistence ? what is euphoria when focus is forgotten? why would stopping follow starting when infinity has swallowed me? pupils of eyes lie back & accept these blatant facks, who are you to steal me from i? i liked to watch you from afar from distances star to star, cry on my tears & listen to them sizzle & fall apart. silence is victimized, the noise of reaching languages prodding any sort of meaning or movement. sit back down, repent repent, leave time well spent out in the rain & trickle dripdrops runaway train. narrators are rejects of humanity, evil desires fueling the story, premonition- so gory.