Bees inside my head. Crawling.
The humdrum of my hand on my head
Trying to get them out.
They sting my brain.
Utter transcendence ensues
As I suddenly feel a portion
A portion of my mind
And now I can telepathically
Incept ideas into other people’s brains
Like bees did with me.
I am the devil now.
I am the one who whispers
and makes people dance to my will
Without their knowledge
It was all a matter of binaural beats
and rhythm unforetold in music before
What hope is there left to lose?
If you yourself are the cause of desperation?
The naysayer, the soul-reaper, the invoker of sin
Mine heart; it does not beat any longer
It is a cold cacophonic stone of utter grotesqueness
All because of the sting of the bee
The sting said,
“To be or not to be?”
And I chose at that moment