I Am Bored of the Alphabet

May 29, 2015
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All I see any more bores me.
Bores me to the point of an infectious drowsiness, the world does.
Closing my eyes isn't just that anymore.
Drowning, droning yawns consume my face as my mind goes stagnant.
Erupting from my mouth is a horrendous, silent sound, that of my yawn.
For I am so bored that I suffocate in emptiness.
Gone are the days of excitement.
Hours that were jubilant are now vacant.
I am still bored.
Jabbing at the thick, gelatin air with my paralyzed lips is my cure.
Kindling a blue fire of nothingness is all my mind is good for.
Let me breathe; let me inhale candy oxygen.
My lungs struggle against the thick atmosphere of boredom.
No air is worse than boredom.
Oh, how you react.
Pollution does no better for me than having an empty mind.
Quickly, breathe in.
Run the coldness through your nostrils and let it seep into the folds of your brain.
See the excitement yet?
Taste the jubilee yet?
Under your tongue should be a balloon of air, pushing the limits of your speech.
Vain trials all but this will not relieve your ailment.
With a single breath, an empty mind will become full.
Xerophilous no more, a flood of life will emerge.
Yawns no longer drown your face, but joy does.
Zooming away is boredom, and here to stay is life.






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