This Poem is a Mystery to Me

Lines on this page;
Each one is a wave,
twinkling in glittering ripples and
they pulse up the paper.

There's thorns in my heart-
Death's nails,
who wants to rip it apart.
Grip fails.

He almost has me.
The trembles in my body
are earthquakes in my system,
chemical fault lines.

Coloured mesh wraps around
into rods that connect at corners,
creating honey-combed structures,
tunnels, roads and valleys.

The curtains breathe gently,
inhaling the fuzz into the room,
the barred walls let in the colour and creatures,
that saturate my vision.

Now I've stayed days awake.
Won't let it be a mistake.
Hearing noises inside I hope are fake,
Drowning in bubbling hexagonal lakes.

Eyes rest on one spot,
and get sucked in the surface melts
in on itself

Now I feel it ripping through the back of my brain.
Cells burn apart in pain
These aches appear in every

Ow.
I'm done for.
Pulses of fuzz haze my vision
With every beat.
Never been so clear.
Reality fades.