my mind is like some piece of furniture with too many drawers of too many different kinds.
I find stories efervescing in each of these drawers.
i find triffling,distinct universes trembling side by side as if they were tv serials,that have nothing to do with one another,and yet piled up altogether.
My mind is a trigger and words are my bullets.
Whenever drawers start opening and forthwith closing back,as in strobe light,the fragments of lives within me are revealed to me once more.
There's no wonder about the outcome; and here i am weaving texts like a wayward,restless spider. That is because of my drawers widely opening up and turning into big mouths.
My mind is,therefore,loaded with whispers,looking forward to going beyond myself,although there's no precise destination. Whispers go out on vacation.
Every night,i have to make up some hand that would close all the drawers and compel them to remain closed, and it is only afterwards that my head can sink in my large,cosy pillow in order for me to get some sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment