a maenad running rampant through a forest of possibility.

A plethora of thoughts saturate my mind like a formidable entheogen. I'm intoxicated by this array of utter possibility scorching my retinas. Fractures of my drunkenness expose themselves, like reflected mirror warped by  a layer of mercury, poisonous but beautiful. (Dangerous memories) My mouth broken from the bottles of beer, coughing up tuberculotic honesty like blood.I've wounded my lips with the same stagnant truth that leaves me sweating and stifled in my dreams. My heart is a canvas painted in scars and literary lesions, and I am endlessly searching for the stitches to these wounds in the form of kindred spirits. I feel this place has much to offer me. It is safe like the womb.