moving slowly down the path of a monolithic misson,
one foot in every anthill i can find.
which is, fundamentally, more than i can say for you...
a sessile creature,
listless and anchored..
nothing more than the same as that featherboned fatty who
get up and
those cancer bits, those fits of epilepsy..
it's all your fault.
the only thing raping you is the backlash of years of your own goddamn bullshit,
crawling between your cellulite,
slipping it in your soup and
fucking someone else while you talk about marriage.
i feel empowered, because i am not you.
isn't that what assholes do?
this is my life.
noise machines, alarm clocks glued to amps.
i threw a million pieces of broken keyboard from the floor of that fast moving basement to the top of his drumset bucket and broomhandle sticks.
that sound...those sounds hurt my chest, my eyes, my fingertips.
in through my nasal passages,
i could feel the waves crawling from one end of my brain to the other
and out my ears like an angry steam engine..
i was the last one to go.
i couldn't leave.
every noise needs an audience,
every darklit corner needs some thin girl in
tight black pants.
so i stayed.
the pain was filling.
there's a certain gratification in nausea,
a full fledged harmony in the breaking of electronic instruments.
a spell of reality.
oh, how i walked.
up those stairs and down that street,
trying to keep my pride together like a
barren wife or a
i walked for him, who
would not protect me from the tigers in my dreams or
help me find a missing child.
who turned around;
something i would never do.
who knows how i sleep and eat and smell and think.
and still wants to hold my sweaty hips and
chase me through a woods.
last night was different.
last night i drove.
forgive me for leaving you, but
this was something i just had to do
i had to find her.
sweet, strung out child.
living with lost boys and
fictional characters like
some greek goddess with reoccurring camel toe.
fuck them all,
i'm coming to find you.
it took hours.
a hundred phone calls,
and still no closer to the truth.
bad boys, bad brains,
a lost sense of reality.
longest drive, winding gravel road...
deer in the street.
walked in, she was waiting atop the staircase.
pizza at rockits, friends outside of bluebirds.
and of course i took you back but
i swear to god
he doesn't miss you.