Tim Okamura

Fooling Around


That night I felt the delight

Draining from my core,

Fading grey to darkness

Nothing remaining of before.

And with each breath,

I felt that every moment

Had held back death,

But none very permanent.

I had lost all will,

Windblown like sand

Into a deafening howling

That I could barely stand.

The bitter bile’s painful rising,

Sharp as the moons crescent.

Filling each crevice cut open,

With poisons most potent.

That was when the depths

Opened up and sucked me in,

Swallowing me whole

Into a grave of silencing.

That was the same night

I started fooling around

With the mind that I had lost

And the madness I had found


Ria 2015