I will rise up...

Boogie/Time

I am ridiculous. I let you plague my mind like that cavity in my mouth I keep feeding with sugar and sucrose. I like to fuck with the wound pouring salt on it as I go, each thrust proof of how strong I am, and oh my god, look at it swell. I can't say I didn't see it coming but to say I know this feeling is like the priest telling the blind man that it is truly he that sees and shall inherit the earth: (fuck you, the blind should say, I can't see nothing at all.) Flashes of purple and yellow, and suddenly I see stars. You just take the red and the blue one, and tell me you're on Mars. Fuck that shit, I don't need the lies any more than you need the chemical imbalance firing off in your head right now like the People's Right hand on the trigger of Ceausescu's gun. Back up against the wall, tell me you feel nothing at all, fucking tell me you feel anything at all. And I sit here sweating like a pig in heat trying to make heads or tails of the curse you got me into. Hegel was right, the dialectic can't be stopped and I myself am trapped in this conversation History has going in the background like a spectre...but I have not passed. These events were destined to rot even before a connection was to be made, a soul was to be touched and a hand was to be held. Did I miss something here? or better yet, where did I lose you and who did I find instead? The lines and creases of time's molding look the same, shit was it only yesterday that the phone rang? And you, and you, and you ran? And yet who are you now, your smell, your touch, your skin melting into the mattress I forever thought was my threshold, and my domain? And yet, and yet who are you now effortlessly eating my flesh as I myself dagger pieces off pretending that the wolves really deserve it and oh, oh my dear, you look hungry as hell. You say you havent eaten.
I cannot be so sure.

...............................................................


Instead of doing my finals I fuck around like an idiot.
Either way, I gotta move on now. Something just wasn't right.
Here's to pretending I can do anything and get away with it. Here's to pretending I'm some sort of dreamt up badass. Oh well. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.
And ps, y'all are assholes.

I feel empty.