Lost

and when i need to

vomit

i vomit

and the world inside me explodes like a thousand dying pigs

getting dirty before they die.

what is happening can be found

past a touch and every sound

talk to me,

i am sand

and the pigs lay down and die on me

see me;

wide, open gap in the space

where all things are known

but to be known yet, still

is

to

to be found

alors - without a sound -

, i close back up the door