S T O N E P O W D E R E D K N U C K L E S

 

I had a stone. Inside. Deeper then I should have.

Covered in tongues. Untouched powdered knuckles. 

You became hallow. Emptied something. Strongly insisted,

inwards motions. 

Then came the storm. 

They changed my intake dosage towards the downfall of chemical pirate.

I substitute. 

Look into windows and speak in tongues. Borrowed. My pain. 

Sustainable electric culture. 

Your frown painted in lipstick marks. Perhaps wished, was not mine. 

Melodramatic interlude. Paranoid exaggeration in syllables. 

I wish? I had a dream. One. Sustained. Focused. 

in me 3 to 5 = 1

my heart. 

loosing count of doors knocked and pages started. 

Many faces never one voice. I don’t feel like I do but then you don’t.

In me, there is a stone. Deeper then should have….

Serpentine and concessions. Looking glass and pupils dilated in the beginnings,

turns. Water fountains and fairytales changed

raw chunks of perforated veins. 

Hands behind my head, hand behind my head! Burning eyelids

...breath. 

Calculated minutes. Barriers and voids canceling each-other.

You can try on the nothing,

have a stone. Deeper then I had to.

In psychotic swirls of echo, screaming joints and broken tangents

licking censorship;

not too much, not too much. Exploding vocal cords,

compression, suction. Stitch!

Daylight brings the best in people, suffocating in polished petty. 

Who one is. 5 option with expiration dated.

Made all up, top that. Now that you know,

I had a stone. Inside. Deeper then I should have.

 

Good Night and God Bless,

Queen of Disorder,

Sonia Dietrich
www.soniadietrich.com