julianbleach

Listless Shins
Imagination does not exist, nor does existence, imagine that.
A barrier that bounds and forms a foggy construct to keep out an unseen threat.
Like a rainbow, or a pet.
We are but a bizarre bazaar left to be fed.
Laughter is a form of fear, we bare our teeth
like animals in defense against the fence that folds.
Recognise a cognitive device through which our eyelids hold.
This is a sickness, stick to intuitivness
Against the the hurt, against the home.
Pebbly peppered people protrude thick listless skins
Under their shins, and through the thoughts
that keep them tied by tongues and termites