or Past ImPerfect
You slyde swiftly down soft throats of unthinkable unsinkable complexity hunger…forget forgot forge what answer too question…reach back dark dusky dank searching four your self shelf where you left it…in dreams sometimes you remember who you once were…but that li(f)e is over…your eye bleeds as you try to see but it is beyond sight sound scent…you can’t even taste or feel now.
You wait wonder full of wishes dye like sweet flowers on an apple tree birthing fruit…deep in their scenters seacrets spelled in seeds…you cannot unlock those forbidden seacrets…consume daily still miss tree eludes you.
Where is apple wine you ordered…when will it arrive…but then when it comes you get drunk…melancholy mysteriously appears soulitude by her side casting silent spells over your sole…clouds crowd your visions all so meaning less as you scrape at your skin trying to remove hate lonely fear self-loathing.
Death’s mask staring from mirror’s reflected side reminds you success built on cadavers…islands of memory rise out of murky depths…recalling your dead selves you murder this one.
When you awaken new day new self at last, but always carry scar tissue dead weight…searching for you…you find your self replaced by your self no way two turn back into past (im)perfect…not even see it know it run your soft hand over it again…for it is