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The Death of Logic

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I like to go to the secret store and get creative juices
feeling juices
I drink them through the night
utterly addicted and soon drunk with endless thought
unboxed from society’s ideas of
logic and reason
I become detached
from this world
the body stays intact
yet I cease to fully exist
her insides
become a nebulous concoction of
every feeling
sloshing together
she’s trapped her self inside herself
flowing in and out of society’s molds
staining them but never
ever filling them up

slip slosh
an incessant waterfall of emotion fills my being
up, up, up
self pity juice leaks out of dreamy eyes
slip slosh
swimming in murky passion
she stays afloat
revelling
slip slosh
     slip slosh


drowning


       slip slosh
“can anyone see me?”
      slip slosh
blurry
can’t see
“can't see”
slip slosh
“help
(leave me alone)
please help
(don't)
save
me”
slip slosh
“I can’t–”
blub blub blub

slip slosh and Carrie goes bye bye.




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