Featherless

I walk compromising, barefoot
The cinnamon road
Watching dead dreams fall
In a meteor shower

I look around, dumbed
The world has gone- in its ultimately chaos- silent!
And creeps by in a shallow slow
Gelatin mode

All has, Meticulously wiped clean
Leaving misunderstood insatisfaction

Yet we are left
To lick otherwise artificial intelligence
And to talk about false truths, collapsing
Unreal temples and eliminating some sense
Of acceptance, swallowing indigestion reality   
And moaning when it paralyzes our bowels

Climbing the hill where
You exorcise it all,
I leak it squealing incomprehensibly
Yet I still don't know how much progress I made
Nore why my knuckles are sore
I let it parasite
Despite it all- this desperate feeling of incompatibility
Driving senseless discussions
In my cinnamon inner idiocy

Clinging to unrealistic ignites
Your sore eyes made me believe
Moving up and down
Through some parallel rainbow world
Where my eyes are portal diamonds, multifaceted, multifarious
And you found them wide open

Creating this mass murder movement
Of unreal combinations fussing, tugging
And teasing my brain
Slowing down in a exhale, some tears
Then a fancy no, and a halfhearted
Partial, condescend vision of truth

Your claws rip me from the cinnamon road
Placing me in a much more frightening blue scaled
Gold rhymed impossibility
Scratching impatiently my skin, my throat,
My eyes and ears, plucking out my leftovers
Plucking my condescend fractious behavior
Extravagating my mind
Cold pressing my feelings
Leaving me featherless