Someone says
Chemically-induced psychosis
Under a hush;
in a whisper; and suddenly,
I am vexed
because the leaves
in the tree
are looking a lot like
shadows.
Upon further inspection
It was just a man
with a blow-torch
staining glass
perched on a branch.
But a breeze
swept through,
briefly,
And gave shape
to a wheezing-siren.
I bawled and whimpered.
and pleaded
for it to stop.
It was like this
often of the time:
this becoming
and unbecoming
of small,
insignificant tragedies.
Another interruption
of the leaves
beckons me to peek
Closer
Closer
Look here
The minotaur
with starry-eyes
huffs the scent of my skin
and rejects
my loss
of sanity.
Then it’s a face
and a palace
an endless maze
and we’re in hell.
Then
I’m
drowning
And I’m spitting
myself from myself.
A gust of wind
blows through,
again,
and I am vexed.
A whisper,
an urgent hush
asking how to get off this tree.