COGNITION & RECOGNITION

Whatever it is can’t hurt me anymore.
Moves like a Siamese monsoon.
Moves like a soon-falling moon.
Confusing the quality of my own tranquility.
Shot up in a quorum of broken thoughts.

Whatever it is has the social graces of so much quantum physics.
Not unlike Trigonometry.
Like madmen who abhor insanity.
Like a falcon attacking a much smaller, insignificant bird.

Whatever it is slaps the face with constant haste.
With bitter taste.
And it dangles....
It dangles...
It dangles...
And disappears from all thought and recognition.

Whatever it is resurfaces as a naked but disguised idea,
Burning from the waste of a thousand others before it.
Burning from a million neurons past their prime.
Coming to fruition through time.
When the control is a much older, much uglier being.

Whatever it is takes, kills, and feeds
Leaving only a bastard remnant of what existed before.
Something that was beautiful and proud.
Something that I can no longer describe,
Because it was a part of us.

Whatever it is.
Whatever it was.
Whatever it will or is to be.