Purgatory of Mind

It's lonely in my mind. May I step into yours for a moment?

 

Rivers of soul pass down my cheek, along my nose, pass the small indenture on the side of my cheek; escaping from my chin to float away.  The void with no emotion sucks them up like a vacuum.  On hole of light pushing through the swirling darkness, reacting to each other like positive and negative magnets.  Fluidic, like a river, the surrounding souls and tears stream past me into the void that sucks like a vacuum.  I remain asphyxiated on a single plot of grass, a small cone of soil falls out underneath, stranding me amid the ancestral vortex.  I scream, but like the souls amidst me, my breath is torn away by the eddy, hauling away my life-breath in one long transparent worm.  The multicolor spectrum implodes my lungs, vacuum-sealing them and leaving me to writhe on the ground.  My legs squirming with the pain of desperation, but I cannot regain my breath.   The anguish only amplifies my eyestreams.  How long must I endure this agony of neither floating up nor falling down?  I fear neither, but instead the eternity of my own personal purgatory.  I once said, ‘there is nothing I fear,’ but in truth it was ‘nothing; that I fear.  My soul pools on the grassy knoll, and in small rivers it flows downward towards the void that sucks like a vacuum.

Reviews

[Robert Francis Callaci]

Great stream of consciousness poetry- "there is nothing that I fear" but in truth it was "nothing: that I fear--a power punch of a line- When I read this I felt that I was in a whirlpool- in a freefall-whirling whirling whirling into the abyss where nothing and oblivion wait to embrace me- A black mood piece- great stuff...

my warmest
bob.