Poem: May My Lungs Burst with Joy

This was an automatic poem, the only editing that I did was to make sure that it makes at least a tiny bit of sense.

Smoke filled lies sodomized the innocence of the angels that gave us wings. We’re decrepit, senile as we rush towards the eternal light which hides a prison of sin. I am awake, my brain feels heavy, the walls crack, and the window greets the sun. I feel like loose change, ready to be discarded onto the street, into the sewage. Why? I cannot help but feel scared as my bones and organs feverishly palpitate. And it won’t stop, it won’t stop. I peek between the drapes and I examine the world through my skin. I am sweating, but the more moist I feel the harder it is to breathe. I wish to decry your lies, all of your lies. I wish to denounce your soul, but there’s no use! For I know your heart is filled with holes, holes that can never be filled. You’re an opportunistic infection, a tiny pathogen smaller than a speck of dust. I am immune to you, one day I will be immune to you. Then I shall renounce my name –may it break and shower us with microcosmic sanctity. Ostentatious, we shall metamorphose into a homology of love, and we shall wilt forever.



by Miki Korhonen,
he has swallowed
his sorrow.


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