too little, too much

a terrible flower has come into bloom.

five senses was never enough- images, sounds, colors, things even beyond that. television static, explosions of light. fingers pressing against my back, streams and rivers of sensation.

i try to sift through the words, but there are too many of them. they melt together, a horrible stream of black and white ink, misshapen letters.

i'm on an island in the middle of the sea. water, water, everywhere. i could drink it all and still remain thirsty. it's trying to drown me, to steal away the few breaths that can still emerge past my lips.

sometimes i can picture a single image, a single experience. something that belonged to someone else, now mine.

a whisper, a scream. shadows on the wall. windows filled with broken glass.

a field scattered with flowers, pale petals beginning to waste away. wooden structures, built up just to fall down again.

alone in the darkness. fiery stars and dying planets. endless time, stretched out eternally. unbreakable.

now i'm alone too.

the pressure is building. more thoughts, more feelings. nothing. everything.

it was beautiful while it lasted.

and then

inevitable collapse.