In the zone – self/imposed exile

Change begins within, even if your face appears like a mixed-up horror show

A dilapidated nightmare indeed, she feels many a million dozen tremendous things
Trepidation, stress and endless anxiety
Sees it terrifically and differential – being, been, enthusiastic again at prey/pretend
No. More. Green/Eyed. Enemies. Standing. Backwards. And. Filled. With. Sensuous. Envy/Laden. Misery.
Happiness at her favourite, favoured work place – distant/faced and decidedly dishevelled
Perfectly parapleged
Failing to fail for its whole wide rotten worldly worth on out everywhere but nowhere but UP… a huge clandestine distillation of euphoric freedom and success will be so very delightfully beautiful
What if she falls though!? Fair astutely so …
Just take this fucking borrowing brush and absolutely Let. It. Forever. Be.
You son-of-a-cradled-witch – catch conscientious flight and create deep/thinking thoughts again
A far-stretched, /fetched and fearless feeling … infinite dollops of careening creativity, intelligent and all of these mistakenly wondrously energetic things indeed
Take. It. All. Away. From. Me. P-l-e-a-s-e – poisonous and precariously unaccustomed to the drivel and dive and over-elongated drive of this bare-naked meaningful human-being
Kafka promises to lean in and to gently, wistfully whisper it yet again and deliriously near her stinging ear …
B-l-i-s-s midst the dynamic twist and turn of deliciously placed peace and pleasing e-v-i-l
Know thy self and no-one else … or simply drink that sinking feeling til it all makes singular sense of itself
This is the hidden w-h-i-s-k-e-y steer, generates its own hidden realm of reckless electricity

Go on, do it … fuel the fucking fire – all eyes rightfully, righteously, arisen to arrive by the drag of the diamond

The dive of the Dagger and the pierce of the Knife

It all of it hopes to hold a mysterious place midst a mixed-up piece of prolonged history

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