An Idea Manifestation

It would sting like a thousand paper cuts soaked in vinegar. 

The wounds would then burn, and imitate that as the surface 

of the sun.

Visiting such an internal pain such as this, leaves

a certain sympathy for my future self. 

The blockage that with holds this thought processes 

is paralyzing me, not my shell, but myself.

Restricting all air passages. Roughly around the 

edges, killing me.

If only the actual smoke, i so need to catch,

was enough to allow me to subside.

I'll let it fill my lungs and defy the empowering mind

I want it all to swallow me into oblivion.

It would only be reachable, but only leave enough

room for the idea to be permanent.

Let the concept follow me home and it be my last.

I want the pressure to crush and constrict the

essence it gives me. 

I'd scrape and sculpt this,

chip and chizzel it

down til dust.

Down to a pure nothing.

& i would leave the simple nothingness 

in a complex.

I'd let it melt and drip down the sides

and slip through the seams.

I'd make the very thought stand still.

I want the rotting corpse of an elementary notion

to be fabricated in a strong eulogy.

The pallid tones in which these are read in a malady 

construction.

But the purest melodies can only come from those

that manifest them.