Literature
Herbal Haze
I stand alone in a room filled, with faces that fade away in the darkness of my mind.
My reasoning becomes a discussion, the discussion becomes a fight against reality.
I feel sick, the sour taste of halfly digested fastfood seems to press slowly up my gullet.
I'm not a healthy person, nor I will ever be, but I've never been more aware of the way the food I choose to eat following it's way down my body.
If I would miss an organ would I feel the emptiness in my being?
I stand delusive, my shaken legs barely able to hold the flesh that isn't directed by a brain any more.
I poisoned myself, every sense seems disturbed and distorted bef