Unfit for Heaven
A prose poem
A new game — hippocampus kaleidoscope. No rules, no liability wavier. The frenetic foisted fractals fog my brain. Pieces of the puzzle rearranged to baffle, to crack the firm ground under my feet. To liquefy my mind. To reshape. To fit into your fiction.
You decree truths like some cutthroat deity. Spelled in blood-dripping scarlet, my original sin screams my name on every corner. I’m a broken record that choked on the apple in the dried-out paradise. The chief of the hype heaven grants lobotomy tickets to re-enter.
I warm my lacerated memories with my smeared breath through the ice age of desolation. To survive the reality-riving blitz. To own my voice despite the doubt-crushed cords. To preserve my space, my self through the storm of you.
© Masha Zubareva 2024
My sincere gratitude to Scuzzbucket and its editors for providing space to pour out my mind.
