A SERIES OF BLACKOUTS...THE WIND TUNNEL

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
We are limited, even in all that we see

Submitted: November 27, 2011

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Submitted: November 27, 2011

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A SERIES OF BLACKOUTS...THE WIND TUNNEL tunnel vision is all we have you can see a lot and all you see is limited in a series of blackouts reveals our vision tainted to pacify ourselves in a passing breath it negated itself and wished upon a star its forgotten tentacles lost in an optic nerve swerve left or swerve right I tried to speak to the voice inside myself and to the voice of dawn and midnight proposals I tried to find the voice of the depths singing to me as my entire body wept in a calloused recollection I focused on nothing and found a stinging moments peace inside all of those things I can never see a vacuous wind tunnel eats up my dreams and I can't propose a purer faith in realms unknowable backwards I stumbled into a field of dreams forsaken stabbed to death would it be that I can ever open my eyes to visions untamed and in a quirky beginning elevate my awareness stoned to death on the painstaking wishing well a wall formed by the sum of all desires makes me naked in the greatest sin of all ages fuming with an agitation to seek freedom and falling to a place where no one can go tireless in the arms of a vacated scenario and a light that blinks on and off reveals itself in a sickness which strikes you dead playtime is over in a mind constantly shedding grief the booming sound from the blackness engulfs you and shows you a place of counted sorrows wrapped in a baby's blanket and sleeping so softly we collide with the great drama and are eaten alive in tears sheared to threads and tatters climb again and be thrown down once you reach the summit dive in as far as you can go and renounce yourself and find a moments peace in the subtle blinking masking the iris


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