drill a thousand holes

variables. intent. focus. the very first enters in and i am losing the other two. so i force it, the square peg in the round
so same. same program keeps running the same. same time keeps thickening pace the same. same channel same
achieve one of life's greatest accomplishments. open and recieve a golden ticket. passport to the whirlpool, feet in concrete cerulean buckets.
and so i drill a thousand holes
do i know that i am alive? certainly. but where beauty crosses the path the blindness begins. a dark target. and another hole is made
overthinking. inhaling too much water. i cough and it comes up black. flakes of burnt orange glint, the rust overcoming my lungs. and i drill
no sign of light, yet shadows emerge. soaking up the blood with white bread, waiting for hope to show its head so i can cut it off. don't give it to me if i can't have it.
and the pain becomes redundant.
vision slighted. years of waiting....and all my people caught in tangled angles. communicating becomes like an alchemy problem. sulfur
yellow and red beam from other holes, briefly. slightly, shots of paint thinner douse the hot lights, slightly. in still other places the pitch burns brightly. drilling
innovative. a new design on soul atrophy. the paradigm shifts and revolves into new empty holes, secret holes that you can't come back from.
resolve no longer an issue.
depth, a concern for the weak.
solidarity in the shallow end.
genes rage against the change.
the drilling, done, filling the holes with
plastic.
o
stop
blee
ding.