Critical, creative and digital writingEcriture critique, créative et numérique

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30 10 2013  

These words

This tune, these words, Swirling in the room, As many kisses of sound: They brush against my skin. This body, these fingers Tapping in rhythm The tempo of my voice: It resonates within my skull. I see whirlpools In this empty room, Distorting walls of Silence and pain. A curtain of blackness Rains upon me, Soaks me with Its melancholy And stops the flow Of time and thoughts: Parasitic noises Invade my limbs. I dissolve into space: Light, in the dark, I feel the crumbling Of my meaning. I collapse in fear, Admit anger, And fight disgust Yet die. Alone.