fever dream or street fair, no longer able to tell the differences of real or not

vendors with slitted pupils peddling wares of brimstone and lies in multicolored stalls

kernels of popped corn heavily seasoned with salty tears and tangled machinations

forked tongues spinning yarns made to entice and pull the sullen soul from vacant vessels

but it all spins as the swollen sinal cavity sends piercing pain into my ear

and i beg them to take the feeling of loss and listless regret, the aching agonizing whirls

or

take yours from you and add them to my balance so you can smile freely again

so i scurry from stage to tent, from fire breather to bard with silky voice

in search of a cure for the sexually transmitted disease the scholars call life