Frayed nerves
Bare ends
Splayed outwards
From my skin

I can feel everything
and anything I imagine

I’ve lost to my screams

Delayed words
Come out as blurs

My heart beats and mind beeps at the means of
a violent breeze

It stops flowing over me
—

There’s little benefit to all this rambling

What am I doing standing here?

My face soaked in the cerulean hue of neptune, screaming to the moons in situ
It’s June
And the burning cadmium of your satin
dress
I think is coming into view

Life has a pattern
Far beyond my observation’s understanding
Every fraction
a passing choice for conscious decisions
of the living few
To engage on their thoughts
or omit action
We are the products of practice
Despite this
I’m still standing
here waiting for you

The fact is,
With my current affliction
I’m not the best at self interested decisions
I’m reactive
Because my whole body is
Falling out of my skeleton

This conjunction is something
I’m having trouble handling

—
Thudding, lungs jerking
Externally inserted
Fractal lens
Turns to cursive
whatever stimuli it appends

Again

I can feel the ineffable
And make no sense of real

Original Poetry & Artwork by Owen Marshall