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Your higher self
In a dull universe, I wander through the fire and feel the inside of the ugliness itself, in the same fucked up poetic way as yesterday.
I lean inward towards the unthinkable while the riddles wander on my body and I try to tackle my mind. The melancholy has sung your last verse while it hung to dry in the great ballroom with the universe itself as its apron.
Maybe im moves around the eternity, trying to tacle out the Castles of flying bullets om my body, trying to be Brave while your eyes rest in the Deep of the ocean of me.
But if I could turn eternity I would twist its essence to your higher self.
© Shirley Ankerstjerne Hassing
I lean inward towards the unthinkable while the riddles wander on my body and I try to tackle my mind. The melancholy has sung your last verse while it hung to dry in the great ballroom with the universe itself as its apron.
Maybe im moves around the eternity, trying to tacle out the Castles of flying bullets om my body, trying to be Brave while your eyes rest in the Deep of the ocean of me.
But if I could turn eternity I would twist its essence to your higher self.
© Shirley Ankerstjerne Hassing
