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my heart is broken and rigid inside my chest. it beats so vividly as though it could save the untimely world from the rapture
of its death. we speak like angels then burn our salty tongues on charcoal-covered knives as they tear a line straight through
the center. the straws we share is that bond that can never be broken. through it we are all connected as one human being
image, broken up onto several rusty tv screens. we shake off the anticipation and submerge into the music repeating itself
inside our heads. the bittersweet liquid numbness glides down and weakens the inhibitions enthroned inside the jaw.
and we wrap ourselves in micro-fibre, naked and sweaty. 'i just want to be in you' and 'i watch you sleep' as lovers
converge and explode in one another. the sacred words of the forgotten times, dropped down to a single digit, a decimal,
a drum beat solo.
and if art is what we despise we blind our eyes and get trapped into an obsessive compulsive obsession. we desire the
opposite amount of control than we have. yeah, the grass is always greener. and no, the humming and tapping, rapping along
my breast, keeps me wanting you. and the cocaine molecules making love to my nose-hairs keeps me alive.
as i am almost dead i am fully aware. fully alive. fully magnificent.
and the drugs will work if you want them to. if you become their slave. are you submissive? can i paddle you naked and
chew on your nipples?
visions entrapped into the shield of my eye. the patterns make all else different. all thought processes slightly opposite
a chance at the norm. and i am afraid of change.
your face looks like a thousand others, a smile ive melted for before. the personality of one thousandth of a percent.
lets just inject this high-paced fabricated reality and take a journey through this rainbow coloured hallway we call a hollow
ground. a felony. an offense. just take this syringe baby, i just want another taste of you. and we've forgotten the heated
words, the indiscretion. Â the bags of mushrooms and the singing homosexual. the bags half-empty and my thighs are warm.
and your heart-shaped sweetness comes through in powerful gushes inflicted on my wounded face. in this flimsy lack of self-control.
the teacher reads the assignment out loud and i cant help but retrace the words with a tracer-filled finger. the candle
flickers and fire and wind dance the mating ritual of the elements. were lost in these energies and we want more than just
that one first time, that one good night, that one solitary few hours of alternate dementia.
and we'll swim through the pages and ill fall in love with your lines. you can smash me through the animal skin and we'll
fall into heaps at the ball-trippers ball. youve come so close in a time so small. where does the time go when its finished
with us? or does it remain and were the ones moving? where are we going? where is our moving sidewalk? if we're on a moving
sidewalk, are we moving or is the sidewalk? what if we're moving through it as we are with time while it remains in the same
place, same fragment of the Big Picture. a sliver of the time. if only i had a way to communicate with comprehension. i
love you. i hate you. this way. dont go. your kiss. my lips. 2 piles of cocaine and some blue smiley faces. this way. new
portion of time.
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