Sometimes, the words don’t look the same. The same everyday
words mutate into twisted creatures from a desolate netherland. That dark land
is inside your head, painting your nerves and brains with a riot of colours.
You have given the artist, a ladder to your head. He’s gonna
run inside your mind and splash off. That colour shall come seeping down your
eyes when you are walking. That golden yellow is crawling down your eyelids,
colouring your vision to jaundice. Your ears hear the sounds of death,
slaughter and laughter. The red seeps in, closer and closer till she sees red
for what it was truly meant to be.
Do you think he will leave your head? He already knows the
narrow pathways of your mind, dousing them in colour wherever he so pleases.
Move your head wildly from side to side. Let the colours mix up in a frantic
madness of colour. The colours will seep in through your body, with fluorescent
leaps and bounds. Your coloured footprints will be a work of art, with
penniless artists feeding off the dried strips of colour on a dirty pavement.
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