Panic

Voices, manifestations of panic.

Ingested scent of romantic suggester's calling me mystically frantic.

When I'm Zen with both handed.

Cryptic pro-sound effect of audio satanic show playground in my head.

Stay loud when I'm low down in my bed with scrams T.O.E bound to the edge.

Their pushing themes of divinity, the trinity and 11:11 in a concession of synchronicity.

But I'm not listening only witnessing.

I'm a mischief scene of a total conditioning.

Diminishing the fiction fiend of envisioning when I'm ripping my eyes out to be in peace without the quickening.