death on a sugar high

a stage dive into
the hands of mystery

awareness peels off,
impulse ignites forward

chaos feels ennui no longer,
freed like a firefly

contours were
all fucked up in that jar

universe seen in actuality,
now, no straight line logic

holding anything together,
just a rhyme scheme and

metaphor's seam.

"Hot Damn!" your
loved one exclaims

"Contours were
all fucked up in that jar!"