Slice

This topic was created in the Writing ✍️ forum by Ram416 on Friday, September 30, 2016 and has 2 replies.
Benchmark dreamland spilling out over into reality like a sift with giant holes that break open, splintering into a million pieces all around me.

I cut myself walking over the splinters, immune and immutable, oddly enthralled by the slice and dice of their sharp edges against the skin of my soles.

I hear the splinters laugh at me, their tears of joy turning into the blood that pours out from the cuts in the soles of my feet. And up from the ground the blood flows upwards into the sky, a reversal of raindrops going straight into the clouds.

I am the Sigmund Freud of swollen skies, I am the Carl Sagan of relentless atheists.

I am nothingness from everything that was born out of something.

I am the reversal of light, the folding of sciences, the world turned inside out.

I am all of this and none of it.

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Very nice choice of words...I am all of this and none of it. Rings so true.