Brain-fuck

Two-o’-twenty clock,
I’m ringing in my fingertips,
My butts are quaking on your thoughts,
Night’s hanging three-quarters at my window,
And I’m getting anesthetized.

I must tell you
That although I love drenched in this craving,
This is getting worse day by day,
More than I’d imagined.

Every noon I see you,
You cause me drip in my mind,
So kindly, like a natural phenomenon,
And I love the feeling of
Running prickling-droplets in my veins.
Then by the evening
I always sit-back and listen to the sound of
Dripping liquid,
Falling drop by drop,
In deep chasm of my loneliness.

It is then I want to write something,
Anything that could make sense,
And describe a speck of this endless craving,
But I feel fucking numb.

The saddest part is
That you would never come to know
That how it feels to be in such an endless loop,
So it becomes must for me to mention here
That it’s like a sultry, wheezy brain-fuck,
That always leaves one,
Swollen and numb.

But strangely, I feel so full… of you.
You fuck my brain like no one can,
And I love it.

brain-fuck
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8 thoughts on “Brain-fuck

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  1. I love the freedom of the deepest most explosive speech intertwined with imagery of longing and craving. Nicely done, I really enjoyed the shift and racing emotions of this part:”It is then I want to write something,
    Anything that could make sense,
    And describe a speck of this endless craving,
    But I feel fucking numb”

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