INFERNO

When I smile too
often
I cant't figure
how the rain
coloured my hair
deeper louder
it will sound
much
more intense
cried out playinsgs
on my cheekbone
collarbone white
blue against bright shades
it's not human
interesting how you smile
in that glimpse of
a second
of time there's a
relative
like everything else
like you said,
I'm nothing but
small pieces in one
falling apart like so many
at the same time
we are pieces of this feeling
this inferno


They call it "fast-writing" - the type of writing where you don't stop, until you don't got any words left at all. Leaves me emotionally stunted in a way. xx