white mass, string around belly ☆

My head is filled with white mass

thick everlasting fog

And brimming with cotton

Uncomfortable to touch and sound 

And I don't know why

And why do I

resent myself

And all i create

I want pure concentrated awe and the purest fruit of passion

But where does one find a safe place 

To just sit in silence, and grow it?

In this blood-pumping machine of a city

I cannot sit still recently

I cannot sleep

I constantly wear a string around my belly

It pulls me to the ground

squeezes my skin and my organs tight

To hold up my skeleton

My frame

And I hate the feeling

But I hate this body more

And I dont know why

So many strands and strings and thoughts in one space

They tangle and slpit and break

And I break with them