Listen to Your Pain
When you’ve bind yourself to other’s shoes but you got lily foot
When you’ve stick your nose to empathize but you got broken nose
When you cower to the crackling of knuckles – in a series of ten – like a fireworks
Release the tense, lift your chin. The sound is just an air between your bones
It doesn’t even reach an inch of nihility; it’s just a puff of bravado
In an unreleased accumulation of all the pains in perpetual motion
When life cycle begins to saunter the nine rings of hell
But your mortal flesh can only bear third degree burn and is considered critical
But think about the monks in the temple with their tedious training using psyche
Tampering the earthen vessel to become a steel. An aspirant to become Buddha
(The highest title a mortal can get until a golden decree is pass to transcend)
They can stamp the finish line with their soul intact and flesh without burns
Blink the lid and behold the portal to your soul. There’s a glow.
Where the picture is twisted into pixel; and vice versa to form a mirror
Whereby reflecting the light from the fireworks enjoying how you close your eyes
And stoop in front of a monolithic shadow wherefore is a shadow player
In a veil of obscurity he clothes himself in a raiment of umbra and penumbra
He smiles to you, and you stoop more bending in a ninety- degree angle
You are enclosed in an orb of saccharine in a pot of poisonous ivy
Turning your back to the world, you grab a rotten placenta
And you eat the pain while the pain is eating you.
Always remember to listen to your pain because you created him
But when you find the glitch in a matrix, the illusion is shattered
You, once again, can fly with the seagulls in the sky.
The feeling of pained is like a chained heart in a forgotten post
Like a horse worm in the belly of praying mantis
Entwining the small intestine sucking the nutrients to the brim
Until it grows long that it starts to creep to your brain:
The mouth is in your small intestine while the anus is in the inside
The nutrients are flash to void, the excrement poisons your mind
Wriggling worms that suck your ganglia until every port is their redoubt
I don’t know the best way to kill them yet dipping your toe is okay
But drowning yourself among bodies of water is out of the equation
The premise is: the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach
So the best way to puncture his heart is to prick his gut
But when the head is seized the game is checkmate
Brain and heart of different matter, have different waves
Yet under the scalpel: the former is numb, the latter is aching
The brain has waves that is twice the heart
While the heart has a magnetic suction that can cleanse the mind
The gut when pricked is quite sour – the acid is burning
The premise is: the best way to a girl’s heart is through her sole
So the best way to turn her feet cold is through her eyes
Then the pigment of life in a solvent of pain, though – maybe extinguished
But the solvent is now red, it is still life. Meet the pain head bang.