It was like I had accidentally stapled myself shut with a cross and a bird’s wing and I wondered did you ever feel that way? That haunting sense of crosswalks and chicken fingers being pushed down your throat while a vampire sings you that sweet jazz of the nighttime.
I gave up on hallucinations. They read back like lizards fucking, chalk, and cellophane and it was all very exciting and then very boring and I just wanted more than anything to whisper in your ear, “I love you so impatiently that it scares me to the brittle bones of my skull, crackling and interacting with the meds I take in the morning to keep me numbly normal like you in my desperate hour of forever and backwards to the crowd, the test tube, the vigilante, the whore.” Read it back. Write it again. Cross it out and start over.
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