How this feeling of opulence grows, swells inside me like a tempestuous storm
A cumulonimbus sitting resident in my lungs, catastrophic, brouhaha in my organs.
Dissonance of screaming, dreaming, wishing, whispers and sighs.
The smell of death and romance lingers behind him, as if he wears it like a cologne.
A thousand ghosts, play acrobat on his shoulders, haunted and haunting.
The boy who lives like a poltergeist, spectral divination of the thoughts that surround him.
Be a deserted island, be isolated in the middle of the sea.
Current, undertow, be swept away martyr, your belief in yourself is dithering.
The things you cry out for nonchalantly, optimistically, hopefully…
How they flee from your reaching fingers, cry, cry, wail.. oh wail.
Too afraid to stretch, only within grasp will you venture?
Twixt your memories, there I reside, there I reside.
Like a splinter from a sycamore amongst your twisted, gnarled ash.
I hold you close as an evergreen, foliage in my head as pretty as your face.
Existential quandaries pushing further into the cavern.
Won’t you hold my torch?
Won’t you hold my torch, please?
The nychtohylophobia is crushing my heart, and I can’t find a way out.
The cavern has swallowed me whole, and I didn’t even realise I was falling.