Waiting: We dive into internal worlds and dreams when waiting feels endless. While we wait, our minds wander. While we seclude, we turn inward. Feverish naps and outlandish daydreams come where they never lived before. That is my inspiration for this piece. Fair warning, it really *is* experimental and strange. Like me. :) *meow*

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Suspense has given way to suspension
life on hold our next available representative
scribble sketch mindless words fill books
time stretches like taffy at a fair
faces become forgotten while the bluebird
in the nest of a nightmare they
without the words
without the words in mouth
hands fly fast like mercury
quicksilvered sensations
carnival is forever never under these stars

and so we walk deep
dance wild
fall asleep while awake
avoiding the under miles like imps bake
each step is a burden
down down down
slightly to the left
the headless body is a monument
speechless it whispers names
poor boy that he yet lives
the first station

snorgle awake jump fast heart race
all the angels are quiet here
the same walls same as same
every crease counted and by the sea
drift back where the soul lingers
far into the land of sleep
where Morpheus is queen
and his child screams without lungs
they ring like bells tortured by titans
a new sound that tastes like custards and earth
fibers wish to flee
but this is the walk of mystery
deeper down diving
dancers wearing peeping gowns
while the dogs find their
while the rats finally take
my oh my we fell we fall
into the well
third station
oh Orpheus you fool

lines draw the figure of our fathers
venerate the violet eye
bring tidings of the song
but wait
wait
listen to the hum below the screams
a melody forgotten melody
melons eat the wisdom of the sea
cold blossoms never gave me
never walk four by three
the devils can find you then
skip around the spirals
eat the flesh of minotaurs
welcome to the sixth station

words can never tell lies even when lying
everything is true except that which
behold, the nakedness of the gods
who hate that which
nevermind nevermind
forget we a said a thing
except the things the matter
because crows will always
watch for the white steps
that lead to the place of hiding
bitter birds bake brittle bread
behold the tenth station of mystery
a wicked teacher with nothing but smiles

forgive me
if I waited too long
before finding
your doorstep