Bitter Tastes and Sweet Surrenders

Flashing like lightning,
there's a crowd in my skull.
The pressure is building-
the webs are being swept away.

Every vivid memory,
bright color against my sockets.
Blinding me from this reality.
I can only see the past.

Trying to walk on a busy road,
a blindfold blocking logic.
A man had spilled his coffee,
and burnt my soul-
third degree.

And after all this is over
I just hope I can still stand.
There's this ghost hovering over my shoulder-
waiting for my heart to stop one last time.
And then it tears me to shreds.

Stutter strut rhythm.
And here's a postcard from where I am.