Turbulence Poem by Zyw Zywa

I watch, take a grab
of the facts, rearrange the booty
to body's own and the world

constructions of fragments
of reality and myself, the truth
of my existence, my who I am:

turbulent clouds
in my sleep
and reckless pilots

of medicinal substances
that play with me
throwing me back and forth

through the hell
they mold out of my life
and I can only watch

Sometimes they also fly by day --
from my very own memory
I am thought by foreign substances