Morning At Midnight

[thujone]

Waking up lost in a trip,
Spinning past the floor,
Unfalling across the room;
Floating above the ground.

Blood red pills esophagus,
Gulp to right the wrong,
Send me down the dewy path
Back to baseline where I belong.

Screaming at the mirror
Forgetting how to breathe.
Paper maché face biting away
The world’s plastic sleeve.

 

[infectedmushroom]

Like. Alot.

Especially "Unfalling across the room."

Don't hear that every day.

 

[thujone]

thx

 

[laugh]

yeh, i like the final stanza, particularly the final two lines!!!

is there any particular chem that spurred these thoughts?

 

[thujone]

thx i was mostly soberish while writing but was thinking of sensations on acid, thoughts on 2c-e and the blood red pills refer to risperidone; emphasizing the desperation of the moment. the final stanza is about the effects of the risperidone taking hold; the feeling of being plucked from trip reality and dropped back to baseline. The experience feels like the mental equivalent of being pushed out of a bed on the second floor and falling onto concrete at ground level.