Pump lithium into my collapsed veins to clog the valleys of creative curses i induce with my gritted teeth, unable to prevent the deluge of blood flowing through to my heart. So i lose control and i have lost control and i do not linger with purpose and i swear i am not the devil because my deafened prayers do not fall upon the distance to my morning star and this creates, or has created a void in a void, licking my wrists to taste the withered life that sinuates in my rigid spine.
fuck what i have said. i need and i need and i need and i have not gotten anything in which i need because i have not only concentrated so much on what i luxuriously want, but also on the things which i could have avoided by choosing to peek around the invisible wall entwining me to the scene that validates my presence in the ethereal miasma that vomits broken nails caused by endless writing and scratching and tearing and breaking and fucking and stabbing at my eyelids to show me a different view.
from yesterday till yesterday was endless and limitless and voracious and painless, now that i have figured out what which was missing from my palms in my time of endeavour as i sought to reap the seeds of birth in my cranuim milking every last bit of sleep and energy and tears and saliva for sustenance that did not in any way affect anything that eventually happened, underlining the amount of control i have, or we have, in this stupid stupid epiphany.
it is over and so i think i can continue on my swirling paths of mellow day dreaming which proves and provides a much needed escape from the screens of touch and words of sensuality and frugality and ability and screaming velocity. and he said this and i told him that i know this and i know but no one ever understands that i know and what can i do to prove that i know when no one is willing to know, that i know which in turn brings us to the know that i know. a lot.
el oscuro me mantiene.
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