Mystery and Terror

In instances, nervous movements motions more than ideas surely figured from public.

My head fixes itself down,

custom to the responsibility of sinking and sink the grass, trees, along air for the mental collapse,

days and nights.

It hardly ever works,

struggles routes,

discovers memories,

gleans moments,

shapes itself a posture,

and a posture which governs me.

Sorrow releases out of retention of sunshine influencing me, “Everything is going to be okay”, Smiley Face.

Mystery and terror.

Horrible release,

hands clench,

searing my inside,

and swearing,

sweating,

belong to wear this awful mask, comfort nobody by my unimpressive bearing.

Here in nothing.

Hearing nothing.