Duvet Mountains. I wish I could climb these duvet mountains. Escape the wallpaper that threatens to blind me. Run free of the raindrops and sweat that salivate from the dirty city. I want to breath the clean air of us again, in the glaring sunlight of my rising mania. Instead I lie in wait at base camp, asphyxiated by the notion of my city as a spectre. A spectre haunting my shadow, clanging around behind me. I long for the day when corrupt capitalism stops eating my flesh and drinking my blood dry. When it stops trading in my unions and smashing my health. I dream of jumping from the fiscal cliff and plummeting onto the jagged rocks of endemic crisis perched so majestically below. The sky is falling down, but the louder I squawk, the quicker it comes, descending like a black curtain across the duvet mountains crippling my soul.
Nicholas
Verwijder reactie
Weet je zeker dat je deze reactie wil verwijderen?
Sienna Williamson
Verwijder reactie
Weet je zeker dat je deze reactie wil verwijderen?