Self righteous
Self betrayal
Smothered in self loathing.
Where is my joy?
Has my hapless wonder
Gone to seed?
Deadened in the winter of
My lost enlightenment?
Oh look, here come self pity
To join the party.
I’ve been consumed
By the glowing embers
Of my own dying fire.
Time to douse me in petrol.
Time to strike a match.
Re-ignite my soul.
I’ve stopped feeling beauty,
Seeing emotions,
Hearing the worlds visuals.
My artistry endangered
As I lick my own skin
To try to taste myself again,
Because I can’t remember
What flavours I come in.
I touch the air with my fingertips
To feel the world again.
Moving particles around my head
To make myself feel more involved
In the continuous motion
Of this spinning pile.
I think I swallowed my creativity.
But I can feel it,
Crawling through the gaps in my teeth.
Its coming back,
Lingering on the tip of my tongue,
So when I think my mouth is full
I’ll raise my hand to my lips
And blow onto my palm
And rub my hands together
Until the friction starts a fire in me
Until I’m ablaze again. .
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