
Posted in Bi Polar Mania

The pressure is on, the noises are gone, the suspension is off and dying for anchor. Fussy filthy jealousy scanter ‘cross the highways and interstates, hot engine breath, grinding rotors, not less pass the get away, a treasury place, a hole in the ground, cold enough to freeze a living body dead.
During investigation, the cement sidewalk cracks were yet the only lead. The treasure, yes.
My insides shake, and I can’t take in food or water. The hair on top my head is thinning, I became pregnant but miscarried.
Along the meadows while traveling, nothing really changed, except the shapes of cows. Some left dead. Some horses, lambs. Everybody lived somewhere it seemed, even if it was in the middle of nowhere.
Along the meadows distance changed the light, shadows cast, I went crashing up into the sky, it tangled me and pounded my face into the ground, where I stood before some fresh idle eye, where I couldn’t stare the idle eye in the eye.
I couldn’t let down my guard. I suppose I’m grabbing at smooth stones and they are slipping out of my hands, forgetting where I came from I re-run the past, and nothing comes up. Was I 10?
I know now what’s happen.
Up to this point I delve into some things. Went ’round and around. Shoveled up Dog shit. Listen, I’ll tell you things, things you don’t know about yourself. It’s strange I tell ‘ya. I’m listening to Tears For Fears, reminiscing.
It doesn’t matter where your mother went, or goes when she left. My insights tell me nothing matters at all in the least bit. Why go looking for answers when I can zip up my boots now, pass up the lacing and tying them. What’s the use? What’s the difference?
I sat shadowless face, on set, across some needles and some powder and cotton. Spotlit. I was mounted on the floor on one knee a belt around an arm and seconds free of distant regret ailment attachment. I listened to sounds of train cars on the railroad five houses down. Sounding like electronic beats buzzing its steal into fragmented auto tuned ambient droning, buzzing numbing.
I wreck past few sweltering pancakes. Aggress points further pointing pricking that soft spot. My limit was a year. I noted the depression. I left and pulled the rug.
Some people decide in one second. I don’t know where I fold. Handed something so many times, so many times, look at so many times. Handed a broken bit, a loosened nut, a tired cry, a credible invisible thing, I can’t un-see what Iv’e seen, but I can un-see what Iv’e done. Or can’t I? Couldn’t I see that stinging in front of me. That is what happen. I was stung. I was stung from the beginning. And it never ends. This will never end.
Apart from desiring breasts and little girl bodies I was into Mario Bro’s and Zelda. Fake-like doll play, but with door closed used in erotic ways. Fighting for long hair. Fighting for Black. Look where I’m at. A lack of tolerance, procrastinating adulthood. Still. Wreck us all now because we should all have no shame.
I’m laughing, I’m brave, Iv’e busted things Iv’e made into ivory shaded liquid thick creamy angst. Iv’e released it all over the place.
Iv’e been attacked, raped, shamed, stabbed in the back and blamed and nothing hurts more than being misunderstood. Sometimes I believe I came from an alien, now I believe it is a devil. I’ll never know for sure, unless I unwrap this case.
There was this dark un gravitated space with neon flotation shapes. Gravity was this really strange atom thing. Gravity had a mind of it’s own, and it’s own plan for me. I’m not sure if the darkness was the womb. But it was there when I slept. And I didn’t like it.
Striking human- stringing
Being
Human
Clouds and beads
And bringing
Tranquilizing fog delicious screaming
I hear
Way out there
Shredded packed up
Noisy
Noisy
You are Noisy
And Left valuing
Me
I am trying to gather up these breezes
Those kind that freeze
I guess they’re called icicles
My memory serves no purpose
No one said anything to me about it
But I know frozen ice is a weapon
And I gather it up,
Fresh breath of frozen breath air
Sharp enough to strike a heart
Strike
Strike a heart
Or someones guts
Until they’re dead
And I gather them up
Like I did
Yes
When I was 12
I remember now,
When I was 12
He use to say to me
Go fetch the cold razors now, you hear me?
And I’m freezing,
I’m freezing,
Now my finger-tips burning
Buzzing,
Wipe my eyes
The dust of snow breath debris
I see the tire marks off toward the house
And I gather up the the Ice
The Ice
The Ice
The Ice
The Ice
It’s not simple.
You are after it.
And It is after it’s self.
A hole that wraps around and around inside it’s self.
Carnage leaks.
Disaster collides.
Tilts.
Diary’s burn.
People move on.
And dress under the table.
Melt in the middle.
Adjust.
Stain.
Fuss.
Crack bones.
Dress in black and walk into the ocean.
I torch the sky when I am alone
I can’t deny what I have done
I don’t pray
How could I
I am still someone
And who are you
Why do I care
I’m sitting on a bench
With no care
Waiting
For
Them to come
Hold me underneath the layer of water in the bath tub
Complete me
I can’t my reasons
You know I’m not satisfied with your behavior
Licking my body the wrong way
All this time me not saying anything
I am spick -led
Deranged
Tie my hands it the back
Gag me
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