Okay so I should be studying. My goodness. (Reductio Ad absudrum)

So this is a poem I wrote maybe last year *shrug* I dunno. Tell me what you think. This one kind of played with my Synesthesia a little bit so if you've ever wanted to know what it's like to have your senses kind of sailing Saturn's rings then here you go. Play.

Reductio ad Absurdum

They say I have a disease.

I drink in the scent of rain

and revel in the crescendos of russet sunsets past;

the conclusion is obvious:

madness,

my faculties are deficient.

I see the ocean, she is cerulean blue

Take in her scent, a bit off, fresh and pregnant with her load

taste her, touch her,

saline and cool

she roars, I tremble and--

there! All accounted for

my faculties are sufficient

She rises overhead with a crash of

Rachmaninoff

Her voice conjures the dove grey of storm

my faculties are proficient.

Madness.