eighteen holes of dark
i am beside myself
mismatched
now i know what i like
is a strain
i’m straining
exhausted
the heightening
of my senses
provides no pleasure
as the sense is naturally heightened
so
stimulants induce
terror
not awe
and i am still alone
no
i am alone now
all-one
tranquillity
as a demarcated
space in
terror
i
must get back
space deteriorates over time
i need consummate time
i need the horizon
to get back in
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