March 7, 2007, 2:27 pm
Filed under: Musing
Filed under: Musing
Anxiety…
Sour, doesn’t linger on, but keeps
coming back in the back of my throat
sort of acidic taste,
like bile.
Soft, not comfortingly, but cool
sludge-like soft like too soft mud
on the sea bed, feeling
uncertain because of it.
Like blood throbbing in my head
and ear, silent to everyone else but
deafening loud, booming to me.
Staccato of drilling.
Sickeningly sweet…
like crushed frangipani flowers, cloying itself
in my nostrils, lingering, snatching away
everything else.
A checklist on my
‘STUFF TO DO’ board, just that
the little boxes that neatly list life’s
tasks aren’t checked.
Written as part of rough work during Jacob Sam-la Rose’s workshop. Like I said, it’s rough, may come bak to polish it… one more box to check I guess.
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There’s a certain sort of cadence to it…
Felicia 05.06.07 @ 4:42 amSubtle, lulling and dangerous.