“Some sour dreams.
Frowning as the sun rose.
Sun rose settling its pink petals gently on the snow.
My temper warped by the deep rituals of the night. (Cactus mescaline ceremony)
The buzzing in my head, insulated by the heavy weight of white around.
The claustrophobia of too many people and confused connection.
Unable to stand like a warrioress today…..
Some sadness throbs below, inside…..
The beauty of the day before lies like a china teapot smashed in in a tin bucket.
Such swinging temperament.
Instability and the feeling again that there is no place for me anywhere in this world.
People eat me up whole, somehow.
A supplement to a healthy diet of bread and cheese.
I need to return here , alone, to really find Poland.”