Doom Cocoon

When I’m pulled in the direction of my doom
A cringed face
A tug on my gut
That feels at once so wrong and at once so right
Like I enjoy my own demise
Like the rush of a vanishing act gone right
I could show you all in a moment just who I really am, including the shadows

LOOK AT ME

SEE ME

I scream silent throbs in my head

and I swallow the pleasure whole
I don’t even taste it
Just want to drown underneath it
Like my favourite blanket
So that i can’t hear anything anymore
except the dull hum of this womb-ish cocoon

A respite from the responsibility of my own pain,

My shallow deep breath,

and a waking sleep for my soul

 

but it doesn’t want to be asleep.

 


Ben

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Image by Kristina Paukshtite

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