Trying desperately to blink compound eyes quickly becomes trying,
And Crying just brings a prickly stinging.
No singing waxy lyrics into opening stamen as I go about my day
Just wordless humming and aimlessness and breathlessnes and as far as im concerned God's greatest miracles manifested themselves as spiracles just to keep me alive for long enough to protect the hive of the one woman who fucks all the other guys and is infinitely more powerful than i can ever hope to bee.

Timelines of Buzzing round a garden designed entirely for the blind.
Living the dream
From the first stirrings of birth through to final breath.
Born to feed spawn, then unmourned death

Struggling with a microscopic lifespan and a predetermined lifeplan that was set out by the stars long before i ever had a chance to sit down and hammer out any of the finer details.

You cant even find out what was really going on inside my head when its contents are angrily smeared on whatever mirror or window or wall ive been slamming into and trying for a vast portion of my life to travel through.

Then its all over.
--------------------i'm definitely the alphaest male here--------------------
Last edited by FunkasPuck at Jan 15, 2012,
^ agree.

As much as I always hate the use of "structure as content," that would have worked much better if you set it apart with some type of align right or tab... to give it some sort of different voice. Where I could assume it's a thought bubble instead of a speech bubble.

Otherwise, this read so much more gorgeously than it should have. By the time I got to the end I was rapping it in my head.

I hated your fourth paragraph/stanza. It seemed sloppy to me the idea is necessary but the execution was just so... there. Like you put nothing into making it a real living you being pissed off and instead gave me a crayoned picture of an angry balding man, that I'm supposed to assume is you crushing souls.

I enjoyed a vast portion of this though.