Sober

In one of my moments of clarity, I tried to recover myself from all the deformed unity.

I salvaged what’s left.

What’s left of my flight attempts and all the flashes of joy.

I tried to stay on my toes and peek through the decent and regular…and saw- nothing.

All disappears, it crushes into a ball of otherness.

We’re parallel universes weaved by endless threats of reality.

They trespass and grow distant…then again colide.

A glowing ball of otherness, with the subtle hum of a hive.

There is no retreat, all findings matter there.

All of you is all that weaves into you.

10.10.2019