Demonic-Strawberry

If I think I’m subtle yet excruciatingly obvious, to a degree beyond myself I don’t even comprehend. If the words I say, on a constant flow reveal an inside soft splattered in shades of green. They all just go by, pour out of the river breaking down my dam. I can’t go back, to a time that allows a serendipity of awareness. Calculations of the metronome seamlessly counting down, or was it up? Hold on to this soft squishy lullaby that may drop you asleep. Its all in sequence, I know there’s something I’ve missed. One yearns for understanding. I hunt, on all fours I go, scouring the savannah on a cool night.

Your quick silver placid grace enfolds me. I’m dancing to a melody melancholy to him. Not only that, it is ice like knives. A slip of the grip. Close it is, a dangerous tone. It is not righteous. It is war of self. Tipped twine twisted between these fingers. Juicy and lovely it looks, delicate and precious it smells. A ticking tinge of my chest, coarse yet fine. Stricken with a morose taste, iron and rot. The unwillingness is clear in the mind, yet a string of hearts plucks me so. Timing is everything, yet time does not exist?

A keen eye serene and sure your gaze grazes my flesh. Locking the other end of mortality, you’ve come to me, myself. The conflict of self arises, a duality has been laid bare. I see the scorn filled ones desperate with despair. That which only reflects my torment. The other side, a bright and wonderous light. No not come to bore against another a means of blending within to the without. It is but a relfection of the tides inside my mind, once stuck in a rhythm a new aspect has risen. . There is still a desire intertwined between my legs, no longer pulled upon by doubt. Played upon with strings. I felt your body against me once,

This gnashing chock refuses to let me be. a growing hindrance benign to others but me A dangerous timber flicks its wit, scarring the under belly of your pit. The embers grow sputtering to catch light, this fire in the stone is of ungodly tone. The shadow it will cast will grow four arms, you’ve entered my mind. A yowling scene, a part of me that I’ve never known has begun to engulf the land. When I see it, I want to go higher. I want to blame. I want to scream. I speak these words in remembrance of those eyes. This may deceit, yet it is clear to me. I sit so still upon this throne, merely a mockery chair set aside to ap

Psychedelics I feel are a powerful tool for opening ones mind up to something extraordinary. Depending on the person, the dose, the type of drug, the environment, the people will determine the type of trip you have. It is something very personal, something that opens you so wide it thus makes you extremely vulnerable to everything around you. It leaves you open to the energetic patterns around you, it can let them attach to you. This is the same with all drugs, Psychedelics I think are more extensive. A slight energetic pattern, or a person that may be a bit off can swing you all kinds of directions. It makes you vulnerable to yourself,