inside out

how would you feel if the world turned upside down

or even inside out

sort of like that self-loathing possibility;
both breeding in a synchronized way.
kind of like that feeling when you weep
but you're not the one that's weeping.
a bit more like colors
contrasting their given meaning.
conveying a bridge between these scenes
could be like metaphors running a business, being obscene
when language can do absolutely nothing
but portray a something
in a made-up abyss.
a medium of ignorance-
subtly stroking the bliss.
nonetheless,
the walls feel possessed
by the audacity of fleeting.
how could you have known that the reason behind this thought
is a reason in front of living?
to carry this onward
means to lean quite forward
and time itself there has a different name.

so how would you feel if the world turned upside down

nothing is the same
books re-write the same thing in every page, in every sentence
all you can do is play the same silly board game, count your age
hover above things at their chosen essence.
and all over, you step on that sorry claim
you're looking at history like you're the one to blame
feeling that rather stubborn feeling
of calling it insane
but it kept popping up like a flipping headache
it seemed a little too fain.
and then that memory kept creeping
it crept, it wept, ultimately taking the piss
of those spaces melting into faces
and of those faces becoming extinct.

what if the world had a choice
of the direction of the spin
the one in which we drown in every day to make a problem disappear.

how would you feel if
this sentence doesn't end the way you want it to
when you want it to
what if you now had a choice
what if your reasons are extinct?
what if your whole life was a passive voice
channeling
capturing
an innocently inherent dream.
take dare of the actuality this brings.

how could you have known that this realm is made up of feelings?
no one ever told you
no one even dared to flick their strings.
and you turn around and you wack them on the nose
with the guitar you chose
because it hummed so lowly the rhythm
with which your soul arose,
all this time
all this effort
and you still don't know what would happen
if the world stopped caring
whatsoever.

10/08/18