a prediction of affliction .

& every seat of heavy beat fell into the swell dwell wound in the ground .


(original image)


i don't want to feel .

no hit from the fallen pit.
no fit, no grit.
i split my wit.
and you all see, a blind flea,
a grind flee;
this numb me.
you thought pace,
but i needed your brace.
you thought that.
i needed my space,
but that's not right,
not light, not what.
that is no appeal.
my soul is finished reel,
a wheel of wheal.

i steal, i steal,
from things to flings that brings.
to emotions and problems,
reached and bleeched,
so i do not identify.
i steel my problems.
but this shut rut don't,
i don't blank your current reaction,
i don't.
it ain't my-your flight,
this sputum put; but clearly,
you don't how to handle this.
but inspite, in my spite;
i know your good intention.
this ain't your pretention.
this tension is mine,
no attention is grime.
and my lent intent,
isn't to share this deal.
i kneel my problems.

i peel, i peel.
i don't want to feel.
i see you two; i see, i lee,
indirected sympathy.
and yet i'm fueling.
i see you two, i see my grief.
this fee, this fee.
the glitches, hitches of surreal.
though you who knows this show,
this grow from the brow of blow;
and the low row of baked steak.
your fake ignorance; the flake take,
you don't really know.
i feel my problems,
and i'm dueling.

and i'm sorry.
if i've miffed, stiffed.
don't get me wrong; i'm not fuming at you:
it's not what i meal to mean.
seem to seal,
i realize, i realized.
and now i recognize:
the leal just,
thrusting the dust.
that just:
i'm scared, you'll lose me to my problems;
as i bust, i must;
the flared stared rust.
i gust into impaired,
that possibility of hostility.


;[signed]