Looking slowly at the body on the floor, I realized that I'm kinda proud of myself. After completing a thirty-six hour frenzy leaves one feeling unbalanced. maybe it was the wrong alternative. Being sleep-deprived may have obfuscated my judgement a bit. I'm as clear-headed as ever. Omnipotent seems like an appropriate adjective right about now. You know how guys talk about their first time fucking as a confirming experience of their masculinity. This is a confirmation, a loud one and glittered in fireworks, that i am indeed alive! A moving, talking, fucking, shitting member of this sub-species known as humans. That blur of not quite having control and drifting in that sloth pace of oozing into day to day rituals is gone. I've shaken off that disease.
The kitchen is the scene of the crime, but not the ending setting. Come here, my dazzling display of death has a face, a purpose. Why was I ever scared of war? It's fun. My eye twitched, admiring the ever-extending, seeping shadow you claim as your last stance. The tile is probably making you colder, not helping. Your breaths engorged on liquid, begin dragging your un-assistive body to the living room carpet. (Carpet-burn is always a turn-on.) I've always had the throught that dying faces are full of peace. Your disfigured expression doesn't prove that misconception. Your stubborn resilence is why this all happened to begin with. I try, and I try, and I try.
On top of that, you've just spread your messy infected red stain. Nothing I ever do is good enough. I suffer to help others. My heart is whining under the stress of ever having lived with you in my life. The palpitation cause my breath to flutter in synchronization. The advantage of the same residence wasn't enough to help you, to push forward, the accept the past, to be happy. (Define happy.) You were my deepest love, and now crossing over to become my coldest love. Without you twisting my thinking, my philosophy had been damaged goods are damaged goods. You had that glimmer to you that the alchemy of turning a lemon into a Ferrari was the hidden heavenly creature you were.
Anyway, if you don't mind, I need a nap, and it would be inconsidereate to leave you alone, so I'm just gonna nestle next to you. Let's share these moments in each others' eyes. After these days of no sleep and all those sedatives, I'm in desperate need to go me-me's.
Goodnight darling.
Last 12.7 seconds: Oh my God! What have I done! Someone help! I'm so sorry my love. I'm so (sobbing) sor...
11/19/09, Laredo, Mall del Norte
The kitchen is the scene of the crime, but not the ending setting. Come here, my dazzling display of death has a face, a purpose. Why was I ever scared of war? It's fun. My eye twitched, admiring the ever-extending, seeping shadow you claim as your last stance. The tile is probably making you colder, not helping. Your breaths engorged on liquid, begin dragging your un-assistive body to the living room carpet. (Carpet-burn is always a turn-on.) I've always had the throught that dying faces are full of peace. Your disfigured expression doesn't prove that misconception. Your stubborn resilence is why this all happened to begin with. I try, and I try, and I try.
On top of that, you've just spread your messy infected red stain. Nothing I ever do is good enough. I suffer to help others. My heart is whining under the stress of ever having lived with you in my life. The palpitation cause my breath to flutter in synchronization. The advantage of the same residence wasn't enough to help you, to push forward, the accept the past, to be happy. (Define happy.) You were my deepest love, and now crossing over to become my coldest love. Without you twisting my thinking, my philosophy had been damaged goods are damaged goods. You had that glimmer to you that the alchemy of turning a lemon into a Ferrari was the hidden heavenly creature you were.
Anyway, if you don't mind, I need a nap, and it would be inconsidereate to leave you alone, so I'm just gonna nestle next to you. Let's share these moments in each others' eyes. After these days of no sleep and all those sedatives, I'm in desperate need to go me-me's.
Goodnight darling.
Last 12.7 seconds: Oh my God! What have I done! Someone help! I'm so sorry my love. I'm so (sobbing) sor...
11/19/09, Laredo, Mall del Norte
No comments:
Post a Comment