to fruit a bloom

The world is spinning. I feel it more today. 

Gravity has stopped working. The molecular attraction has weakened. Another day where my lips are wrapped around numerous roll-ups has emerged. I have tied the silk petticoat around my waist like a corset. My fingers are naked; jewelery abandoned. Lipstick smeared lips are dry and humming no song today. Birds might be noisy outside but there is no sound in this room. There is annihilation of forms and feelings. The phone keeps ringing and I keep hearing people make strange images from boring words. Early this morning I was thrashing around my bed in pain. I thought I was having a heart attack, I thought it was all going to finally end. But in all honesty, it must have been just gas. Nothing is making much sense today, not even premature notions of death. Sparsely, I read dead men making love promises. I keep reading dead women talk about unrequited love. And then, I try to read my world.

I don't understand the length of my thoughts, neither do I have any idea of the volume. They keep coming in and out of different parts of my head. Thoughts become predicament because we are not honest with ourselves. So many lies, so many falsehoods. And we end up with desire. 

There are disparate longings making small holes in the sky. And much to my discomfort, the universe appears different from every peep-hole. However, it is not comforting to realize that there might be many suns out there, but only one sky. Today my sky with holes tastes different. It has wonderful after-taste making me dizzy.

Dizzy like a chewing gum chewed by a monkey on a trapeze.

Sometimes I wish this burden of feeling and eagerness to make sense of everything were as convenient as wearing a cloak. So many of us would be walking around naked then...

All is Vanity @ Adad Hannah